


This Way Comes

by Lesmisgirl



Category: Dracula & Related Fandoms, Dracula - Bram Stoker, Dracula - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-08 18:57:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 49,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6869368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lesmisgirl/pseuds/Lesmisgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>College student Clara Porter is surprised to have a millionaire business mogul move into the floor above her in her apartment building. She's even more surprised at the strange and inexplainable pull she feels towards him. She is not sure why she feels knows him, or why the name Mina Murray feels very important. Or why the name "Dracula" feels even more so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Do you have any idea who just moved in upstairs?”

Clara Porter blinked her eyes open, wondering why her friend Julie was on her bed, and how often she was going to wake up in such a way.

“What?” Clara sat up, adjusting her nightdress that Julie always made fun of her for sleeping in. She blinked again, forgetting that her eyes weren’t just blurry, but that she couldn’t see anything with her glasses. Or contacts. Usually contacts.

But Julie had no mind for this. She sat up from the bed, flouncing about the dimly lit bedroom. They’d been in this apartment for just about a month, and Julie seemed to think that it was okay to barge into Clara’s room at absolutely any hour for absolutely any reason. Sure, they’d been friends since high school, but even so…

Clara tossed over her legs, walking to her dresser and finding her glasses there. All the while Julie was talking.

“Christopher Drake moved in above us, Clar! _Christopher Drake_ , can you believe it?”

Clara yawned, “I don’t know who that is.” Julie squeaked in disbelief. “But you’re going to tell me?”

“Forbes ’30 Under 30’?”

Clara didn’t respond. She put on her glasses, looked in the mirror and found her blonde hair to be exceptionally wild this morning. She always took showers at night and always woke up to this mess. It didn’t matter. 

Julie sighed, “He’s, like, mega-rich and super handsome.”

“That’s great. Which of our daughters are we marrying off to him, Mrs. Bennet?”

“Clar!”

She groaned, “Sorry, sorry. Jules, I just woke up. I will be more excited about this once I have some coffee.”

**OOOO**

“…he’s got, like, a tech empire or something,” Julie explained as they sat at their small breakfast table. Julie had always been obsessed with celebrities. She knew more about the Kardashians and the Hemsworths than they probably knew about themselves. Clara was not surprised Julie was ecstatic to have a ‘mini-celebrity’ in the building. No doubt Julie would soon befriend him and set him up for the reality show she wanted to star in.

Clara sipped her coffee, “What’s he doing in these apartments? They’re nice. They’re not…business mogul nice.”

“Something about wanting to be near his family,” Julie said with a flick of her hand.

“Are you stalking the poor guy?” Clara clicked her tongue. “You are Mrs. Bennet.” 

Her friend flushed, “Everyone’s talking about it in the lobby.”

“The lobby? You never hang out in the lobby. You are stalking him.”

“I think we should meet him.”

Clara guffawed, “You’re literally just lining yourself up for all these _Pride and Prejudice_ jokes.” Julie said nothing. “I think that’s a terrible idea. Going to meet him, I mean.”

“Why?” Julie cocked her head.

“Cause…” Clara couldn’t really think of a reason. She thought of hundreds. A thousand reasons why going up and talking to 30 Under 30 Christopher Drake would be absolutely the most horrifying thing to happen to anyone ever. It would be supremely awkward, for the first mark. Clara would probably say something stupid, for the second mark.

She spoke, “We’re a couple of college girls living in the apartment beneath him. He’s gonna think we’ll throw crazy parties. He’s gonna call the cops the second we get too loud, and then we’ll get arrested? Do you want to get arrested, Jules?”

“For what? Watching Netflix? Legally having alcohol in the apartment?” Julie tossed back her hair. “We don’t do anything, Clara. We won’t be bad neighbors.”

“What if he’s a bad neighbor?” Clara suggested. Her friend seemed to have stopped listening, due to the fact she rolled her eyes and left the table. Clara gathered her dishes. “I mean, what if he throws crazy ragers all the time with strippers and Victoria Secret models?”

“Then I’ll ask him to invite me and not you, you pain in the ass.”

Clara glowered, setting her dishes in the sink. She was not sure why her stomach twisted with idea of meeting this man. Usually, she was not awful with meeting new people. People seemed to like her a lot, really, so she had no true reason to feel so trepidatious. Maybe he was super wealthy, but so was Julie and she wasn’t completely awful. Not all the time. Never mind, Clara thought to herself.

“Fine,” she agreed. “Let me get ready and we can go meet him.”

Julie glanced, “You look fine.”

“I’m in my pajamas.”

“Ugh, you and your fucking night gowns. Who wears nightgowns? What year is this?”

“They’re comfy,” Clara protested, walking off to her bedroom. “And I can sleep in whatever the Hell I want.”

Julie called after her, “Go put some clothes on. Nothing too modest, though. We’ll never get invited to the stripper party if you dress like you usually do.”

“Shut up, Julie.”

**OOO**

Julie had gotten a phone call from her sister, who needed help with her car, and promised to be back in half an hour. For someone so rich and pristine, Julie knew a whole lot about her cars. She was close with her dad who kept cars as a hobby, so Julie had learned all his tricks of the trade. Her little sister, Annie, had taken more after her mom in that she partied all the time and popped in and out of Julie’s life sporadically.

Clara was left alone. She’d already gotten ready so she decided that making cookies was the logical thing to do. That was a thing, right? Bring the new neighbors food? _Yeah, in the like the fifties you weirdo._

_Everyone likes cookies,_ she told herself. _It’s just nice. Who doesn’t like chocolate chip cookies?_

So she made them, feeling slightly strange about it but not supremely strange so she went along with it. Clara had made a lot of friends through bringing them food, so maybe 30 Under 30 Christopher Drake would be her friend as well. It’s not like they’d see each other that much anyway. Clara was nearly always at school or work, and no doubt he had…millionaire things to do…so she wouldn’t ever see him even if it was awkward. Which it probably would be. Which was fine. But not fine.

“You’re baking?” Julie tossed her keys onto the table. She’d pulled back her ginger hair in to a high ponytail.

Clara shrugged, “I thought he might like some cookies.” Julie raised her brow. “I’m being neighborly.”

“That’s good. I’m proud of you, young padawan.” 

“How’s your sister?”

“Fine,” Julie groaned. “She just doesn’t seem to believe in changing her oil.” Clara was about to ask another question, but it seemed Julie didn’t want to talk anymore. Julie didn’t really like talking about her family. “Ready to go then?”

**OOO**

“You know, I’ve never actually been up here.” Clara and Julie stepped out into the foyer of the top floor. It was far grander than any of the other floors that was sure, so maybe his living here was not that odd at all. It really was a nice building. Without Julie, Clara would’ve never been able to afford it. But this floor…the walls were wood and polished, with paintings of sophisticated looking people on them to boot. The ceiling was white with a grand chandelier in the middle that sparkled like a thousand stars. It was like something out of a period film. Like, a high budget period film.

Julie shrugged, “It’s nice.”

Across the way was a door, which was white with a number one on it. Suddenly, Clara was rife with nerves again. _Calm down, you lunatic woman._ She clutched the cookie tray. _Stupid cookies. Who bakes cookies? That’s weird. This is weird. You should leave._ Clara told her nerves to shut up as Julie nocked on the door.

When it opened, Clara couldn’t breathe. It was not just because the man standing in front of her was ungodly handsome because, god, he was ungodly handsome. Or that he looked exactly like how she thought a man should look: tall, strong, with dark, dark hair. Or even that he was staring at her in some very strange way. It was that she knew him. God, she knew him and knew him well but hadn’t the faintest idea how. Like an actor from a movie you can’t quite place, but far more real than that. Her mind reeled for a connection, but she knew she did not know him. She could not know him. Clara had never met 30 Under 30 Christopher Drake, but why did it feel like she’d known him all her life? Which didn’t make any sense. Surely, he just looked like someone else she knew. Someone she’d dreamed of. Why was he so familiar?

Clara broke the spell, “HI!” _That was far too loud. Why the fuck am I screaming at him?_ “Uh, hi. I’m, um, Clara Porter and this is my friend Julie McLane. We live in the apartment below you and thought we would say hi. Which I just did. Three times now.”

Julie looked at her friend like she’d just had a stroke. Clara was not at all certain she hadn’t.

30 Under 30 Christopher Drake gave a smile like Clara expected 30 Under 30 Christopher Drake would give. It was charming but smirky and hit her in the chest in a way she really didn’t want it to hit her in the chest. Clara was not a fan of any sort of man having an effect on her. She thought herself quite immune to them until this moment.  
But she knew him. Which she didn’t. _God, this is insane. I am completely insane._

“We brought cookies,” Julie said in what Clara knew was her flirtation voice. When you’re friends with someone for so long, you know their alternate personalities. Flirtation was a very prominent one for Julie.

Is he staring at me? Clara couldn’t tell. It felt like he was, but maybe she was staring at him. She couldn’t imagine she’d be of much interest… You’re very pretty, Clara, she told herself. And yeah, she knew that, but she didn’t have much…appeal. Not like Julie did. Not any sexual appeal. Hell, she’d just actually screamed at a man she found attractive so that about summed it all up. Clara was not very experienced in the male department. Not at all experienced. Not even, like, handholding. Twenty-one and still never kissed. A pathetic story, really, but sadly true.

So Christopher Drake was not staring at her. Christopher Drake was a successful business mogul and not attracted to twenty one year old never been kissed Clara Porter. And she certainly didn’t know him.

_Breathe. Be logical._

_Get a grip, you fucking Mary Sue, and talk._

The man spoke, “It’s good to meet you both. I haven’t met too many of the people in the building.”

“We’re the only cool ones,” Clara joked. A fun thing she did when she felt uncomfortable. He laughed, at least. Maybe a pity laugh. Probably a pity laugh. Definitely a pity laugh.   
“So we just wanted to say hi and bring you some baked goods.” Clara out her arms and found his hands to be quite cold as she handed him the tray. Silence. “Well, not that we have fulfilled our neighborly duty, we’ll leave you alone.”

“Please stay,” he said almost immediately. He was certainly staring at her now. Yes, they locked eyes for a very long moment yet Clara did not feel uncomfortable. _I know you,_ her mind kept saying yet she could not figure out the why. It seemed she had all the facts and none of the figures. She knew him. God, she knew him.

“My apartment’s a bit of a mess at the moment,” he began, all the while staring at her. “But I can offer you some coffee or tea if you’d like.”

“That sounds great,” Julie responded in a strained tone. To be completely honest, Clara had forgotten her friend was there at all. Christopher Drake blinked, his eyes turning over to Julie. It seems he’d forgotten as well. It made a small smile grow on Clara’s lips and she was not sure why.

The followed the man into his apartment, which was odd because that’s something Clara would never do. Clara would never be okay with going into the apartment of someone she didn’t know, let alone a handsome business mogul man. It didn’t seem strange, which made it all the more strange. The room was absolutely stunning though. Julie and Clara’s apartment was nice, but this was entirely different and not at all what she was expecting. Millionaires in movies always had bright open apartments with large windows and white floors, but this was not like that. It was large and open, yes, but with rich wood and old world decorations. He took them to a room lined with bookshelves and Mina was certain then that she was dreaming.

She had to be dreaming. This man could not be real. This handsome and strange man with a library in his apartment. God, had she made him up in her mind? There had to be something wrong with him. It was like everything she’d ever wanted all wrapped up in one person. He doesn’t like you, Clara, he’s just being neighborly. Then what was all that staring? And what was this strange feeling she could not shake? _You’re being absolutely ridiculous. This isn’t a story. This isn’t a movie or a book, so just calm the fuck down, you overly dramatic creature._

Clara sat next to Julie on a small couch. 30 Under 30 Christopher Drake had left the room. He might’ve asked what they wanted and Clara might have answered but she was too distracted to remember. His room was certainly not a mess. There were boxes, yes, but he’d already put some books up on the shelves. It was absolutely perfect…and it too strangely familiar. If only she could-

“What sort of magical Disney Princess fairy vagina nonsense are you working on this guy right now?”

Clara blinked, “That was lot of words and half of them didn’t make any sense.”

Julie gaped, “The dude is in love with you! You’ve known him for two seconds and he is high key in love with you!”

“That’s ridiculous, Jules.” Clara leaned back, looking to the ceiling and seeing it too had a chandelier. God, maybe she did make this whole thing up in her head. “He has parties with strippers and models, remember? Not dorky, poor English majors.”

“Don’t you talk bad about yourself, I’ll hit you.” Julie said sternly. Julie said that often. “One: you’re fucking great and Christopher Drake would be super lucky to have you. Two: he did not stop staring at you from the second you opened that door. He’s probably hiding behind the bookcase staring at you now.”

“That’s creepy.”

“He loves you.”

Clara flushed, “Shut up. People don’t fall in love at first sight. This isn’t a musical. Maybe he’s just a serial killer and wants me dead.”

“That’s still a musical.”

“Ha, ha. You know I-“

The possible serial killer in question re-entered the room at that moment with a small silver tray that he set upon the coffee table. Julie grabbed a tea that she must’ve requested and Clara a coffee, though she did not remember placing the order. Peculiar still was that he’d brought cream and two sugars, exactly how she took it. _You probably told him and just blanked it out. Calm down, you fucking lunatic._

“So what brings you to Ohio, of all glamorous places?” For a girl who’d just told her best friend that Christopher Drake was in love with her, Julie was certainly still doing a lot of flirting.

He spoke, “I wanted to be nearer to my family. To reconnect.” Clara was certainly crazy, but he seemed to glance at her. She tried her best to look normal. What does my face normally look like? “My job doesn’t really require me to be in one particular place.”

“What is your job?” Clara inquired, gaining a daggered look from Julie. “I know, I should probably know who you are, but I’m really not up on pop culture as much as I should be. Which, you know, for being an English Major is probably not great. But I’m studying Brit Lit so everyone I know about is dead.”

_Why do I talk? Why do I say words out loud?_

And why was his gaze so very intense? If he just thought she was crazy, he would not be staring at her like that. It was like he was trying to break into her mind. Maybe it was something they taught you at the School of Being Incredibly Good Looking and Intelligent.

“Software development,” He explained with his intense gaze. “A lot of computer memory fixing programs as well.”

Julie butted in, “You’re the most successful person in your field for your age!” His gazed switched to her then and it seemed somehow colder. “I read your article.”

“I did not,” Clara took a sip of her coffee. It was really good coffee too. _Damn him. Damn him and his perfect face and perfect apartment and stupid fucking perfect coffee._ “How old are you?” Julie made a noise. “That was probably rude. I’m sorry. This is why I don’t go out often.”

_Back at it again with the bad jokes, Clar._

He did laugh. “I’m 29, Miss Porter. Though some days it feels like I’m 500.” That was a weird thing to say, but she let it slide. She was more fixated on the ‘Miss Porter.’ That was so fancy. Just like Jane Austen of Bronte…this couldn’t actually be happening.

He started again, “So you two are at university, I presume?”

The afternoon went on like that for quite some time. Idle small talk that all seemed layered in something Clara could not name. That strange gaze of his too: like he too felt this weird connection. Which was absolutely bonkers to think. It sounded like something from a really bad romance novel. Other than that it all seemed rather normal. He really wasn’t stuck up nor smarmy and Julie eventually stopped trying to flirt with him. Towards the end, Clara had made a comment about his library and he told her that she could use it anytime he wanted. That gained a look from Julie that Clara blatantly ignored.

The time was gone quite quickly, and Clara found herself needing to get ready to go to work for the night. He asked where she worked and she told him she was a server at a little restaurant called Joe’s, though she doubted she’d ever see him there. Not really a place for a millionaire business mogul, she assumed.

When they left, he shook their hands in a business like way and then they were back in the foyer. Clara took a deep breath and realized she had not really been breathing very well while they were there. Julie seemed like she wanted to say something but Clara hissed at her to wait until they were in the elevator. The second the door closed, her friend let out a squeal at so high a frequency Clara was surprised the lights did not burst.

“He invited you to his apartment to use his library and I almost died.”

Clara rolled her eyes, “He’s just being nice.”

“Oh shut up, Clar. He’s so into you.” Julie leaned back against the wall. She swiveled her hips proactively. _“Use his library…”_

“Yep, by his library he meant his penis. You cracked the code, Sherlock.”

“I always knew you’d end up with an older man.”

“Shut up, you weirdo.”

The doors opened and standing right outside them was an old man with a sagging face and a lazy eye. Eugene Renfield. He lived on the second floor but took it as his personal business to roam the building and say cryptic things to everyone. He was harmless. His family had put him here instead of a home and a nurse came twice a day for him. All other times he was found in the hall, yelling strange things as you walked past. Never harassing things, just odd things. Words not really about anything at all.

He always gave Clara the chills, though.

“Mr. Renfield,” Clara nodded with a small smile. He waited for her and Julie to step out of the elevator. Julie smiled politely as well, holding the door open for the old man.

He spoke, “He’s come back, you know.” Clara nodded and smiled. Renfield’s sons had often apologized for their father’s behavior. _He thinks it’s a different year, you know. So just nod and humor him. He means no harm, really, he’s just confused. This building it good for him. The old style…it’s what he remembers._

The man stepped into the elevator, a decided look coming over his old face. He met Clara’s eyes straight on.

“He’s come back, Miss. Murray. Back for you. So you better be careful.”

The doors shut before she could react.

“That was creepy,” Julie noted.

Clara nodded.

Julie sighed, “Poor, confused little man. It’s sad, really.”

Clara nodded, her mind suddenly reeling. Miss Murray. Miss Murray. Why did it not feel odd to be called Miss Murray? Like some distant friend, a girl from a dream. Miss Murray… You’re being insane. Clara turned her back to the elevator, following her friend to their room. _You are going to get ready. You are going to go to work. You are going to wake up tomorrow and go to class and nothing will be different. You’re just exhausted or hungry or something. There is no Miss Murray. You don’t know Christopher Drake. Your life is very, very normal, so don’t make it something it’s not._

Back in her room, Clara took her uniform from the closet and slid it on. Normal. Yes. Everything was normal. Her eyes moved to her ceiling, as though she and Christopher Drake were connected through it. Which, of course, was ridiculous.

_Miss Murray_ , she thought dreamily. _He’s come back for you._ Her eyes looked back to the mirror. 

“Nonsense.”


	2. First Editions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara asks Christopher for homework help

They weren’t even that deep into the semester and Clara already had three papers, two projects, and a speech due all in the same week. Absolutely every spare moment had been spent upon homework and still she worked four nights a week and managed not to commit a single murder. Clara had considered herself to be handling things quite well, until her professor told her that her sources were unreliable and it would be “good if she could find first editions.”

First editions? Where on earth was she meant to find first editions to site? No reasonable driving distance library in Ohio had them: she’d done the research. There was nothing to quote online either so Clara had set her mind to lie in her bibliography, but then her professor requested copies of the text. Clara understood that this was about research and scholarship, but God, on top of everything she did not also need this.

“Doctor Ivers is trying to kill me,” Clara pronounced as she sat with her friend Katie for coffee. “The woman wants me dead. She wants it.” She took a swig of her espresso filled latte and dreaded the night to come. Where on earth was she meant to find these things? Research and Literature had sounded rather interesting when she’d booked in for the Fall Semester but now Clara wanted to stab herself in the eye rather than run around the entire Midwest to look for damned books. Not to mention she had two other papers to write, and two projects, and a speech…

Katie nodded, “I had her last year, so good fucking luck with that.”

Clara groaned, “Where do I find first editions of classic British literature? Hipster book stores? The catacombs of the library? On the back of The Declaration of Independence? Am I going to have to Nicholas Cage these things?”

“Did you just use ‘Nicholas Cage’ as a verb?”

Julie sat to join them, huffing as she did. Her blended drink she sat on the table, pulling out her laptop and putting it in front of her.

“Halloween is coming up and I need a creative idea for a Sisterhood.” Julie pronounced it as a demand, not a question. Newly elected chair of Sisterhood for her sorority, Julie was not about to let her office go to waste. So for the last two months she’d spent every day coming up with some new, creative way to celebrate literally any holiday.

“Costume party?” Suggested Katie.

“That’s weak, Kat, weak.” Julie stressed. “I need a creative idea.”

“You need a what?” Said a male voice as our friend Elliot joined the table. Followed soon after was their friend Nick, who looked like he really didn’t want to be there. In truth, Nick never really looked like he wanted to be anywhere.

Julie clicked her tongue, “A Halloween Sisterhood idea.”

“Greek stuff is terrible,” Elliot replied, as Elliot always replied to the mention of anything Greek oriented. Clara’s school was still small enough that their Greek system had not been corrupted. That is to say, their Greek system was what one was always meant to be: glorified clubs. But no matter how many time they attempted to tell Elliot this, he always insisted that Greek Life was ‘dumb’ and those who did it ‘idiot snobs.’ That is to say, Julie was not the biggest fan of Elliot. But they’d all been friends since freshman year, so it was impossible to cut him out now.

“I’ve got it!” Clara said after a moment. “A haunted house. You guys could put on a haunted house.”

“Yes,” agreed Katie. “It could be sorority themed! It would scare the piss out of Eli!”

Elliot puffed up his chest, “Hey, I-“

“Yes,” Julie agreed. “It could be something cute but creepy like ‘Kappa Kappa Kill’ or ‘Alpha Theta Die!’”

Nick grumbled, “Those names are all super corny.”

“It’s a haunted house for drunk college students, not the title of my first novel. The cheesier the better.” Julie took a large sip of her drink. “Now. Good. Volunteers. I’ll make a Facebook page…get this thing going…”

Clara spoke, “I can’t stay too long if I have to go book hunting. I want to be home at a semi-reasonable hour so I can start on these projects.”

“Is Professor Terrible making you do crazy things again?” Julie asked while she typed away on her computer. Elliot leaned over like to mess with her screen and she swatted him away. 

“Yeah. We have to have actual copies of first editions now. I have no idea where I’ll find them.”

Julie swayed her shoulder, “I bet Christopher Drake has first editions. He’s super rich, you know. And he wants you to _go see his library._ ”

“Stop making that sound sexual,” Clara spat as she felt all of her friend’s interest peak. For the entire time she’d known them they were all waiting with baited breath for some person to catch her eyes. It’s not that Clara was averse to such things, it’s just that the opportunities had not presented themselves. Besides, she certainly had no time for a relationship and if it was not worth her time then why even bother? And Christopher Drake was not interested in her, but he had offered help. And if he did have first editions, it would save her skin. He’d mentioned before that he was a collector of books. Yes, they’d chatted in the halls a few times since the meeting and he’d said something like that. 

Clara had completely forgotten.

Clara spoke, “He had said something in the hall about collecting books.” Julie looked up a teasing light in her elfish face.

“Are you saying that you have spoken to Christopher Drake, handsome millionaire, since we met him last week? Gone to his apartment again.”

“We talked in the hall,” Clara pressed again as her friends stared at her. She glowered, “Do not look at me like that. He’s our neighbor. I saw him in the hall and we talked. Like normal people.”

“Clara is dating a millionaire. I call unfair.” Assessed Katie astutely. Elliot nodded in agreement while Nick continued to look melancholy. 

“You’re all insane.” Clara insisted, taking another swig of her coffee. “And, yeah, he might have books but I don’t want to go to his apartment by myself.”

Nick piped in, “Why?”

“Because it would be horrifying!” Clara answered immediately as all her friend’s kept that stupid gaze on her. God, what was this, high school. “It would be super awkward and weird. What do we talk about? What am I supposed to do-“

“Clara’s got a crush!” Katie announced with a giggle. She and Elliot began chanting the work crush while Clara made a point to loudly gather her things from the table. They all hemmed and hawed for her to stay, but she’d made up her mind now. Talking to Christopher Drake was horrifying, but talking with her friends about him was even worse. Couldn’t she just gouge out her eye or fall into a ravine? All seemed better options that doing anything that involved Christopher Drake.

Clara rolled her eyes, “No, you children. It’s just…he’s so important-“

“You’re important too!” Julie said and Elliot snapped in a mock sorority way. She shot him daggers and began typing in her group again. After a moment, she let out a large gasp and looked up to Clara. “You should invite him to wine night!”

Everyone agreed with this loudly, making Clara even angrier some reason.

“I’m sure he doesn’t want to hang out with a bunch of idiot twenty-one year olds.” She grabbed her coffee. “You’re all insane. I have to go. I’ve got homework to do.”

Julie spoke, “Is that his nickname now?”

Clara picked up a wad of napkins and joking tossed them at Julie’s face. The whole table laughed and changed the subject as Clara left the coffee shop.  
**OOO**  
“Miss Murray!” Proclaimed Mr. Renfield when Clara walked into the lobby. Because the world was serendipitous and terrible, not only was Mr. Renfield in the lobby, but Christopher Drake as well. He seemed to have just returned from somewhere, his keys in hand and waiting for the impossibly slow elevator. Yet when Mr. Renfield exclaimed the name, he turned around with a very keen look of interest. _Who wouldn’t turn around at such an outburst? It doesn’t mean anything._

Indeed, Clara had convinced herself thoroughly that it didn’t mean anything. Miss Mina Murray was certainly not a name she knew nor ever could know. A google search had left her with nothing but a few Facebook pages and a LinkedIn profile. She’d just been spoked out from that déjà vu feeling she got from Christopher Drake that was all. No doubt Mina Murray was someone Mr. Renfield had known long ago.

She nodded, “Good afternoon, Mr. Renfield.” Christopher Drake gave her a small smile from where he stood and she him, feeling impossibly young and small carrying a backpack while he wore an impossibly handsome suit for whatever reason.

Mr. Renfield spoke again, “He’s been waiting for you, Miss Murray. Waiting so very long.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Clara nodded. She tried to walk a little faster past the old man as the elevator dinged. 

The old man called again, “Be careful, Miss Murray!”

Clara mumbled that she would be and trotted into the elevator. Christopher Drake was standing next to her, smelling really good for some reason, and he hit her floor button before hitting his own. She figured she had about two minutes to ask her favor and hoped he say yes. Of course the real part was getting the courage to ask at all.

“Any particular reason he calls you Miss Murray?” Christopher Drake asked after a moment.

Clara shrugged, “Probably someone he knew once who looks like me.” 

That comment seemed to amuse him but she didn’t know why. They were on the third floor now. Not much time.

“I’m actually glad I ran into you because I want to know if I can ask you a favor.” Clara looked to him for a reaction and felt immediately like she was going to flush. Why did he have this effect on her? Yes, he was handsome, but this was weird. She knew him. God, how she knew him. Which didn’t make any sense.

“Of course,” he said with a nod. Clara began, probably talking too fast. Definitely talking too fast.

“My teacher assigned us a paper but all of our references need to be to first edition books. My paper’s on Gothic Literature, and I know you said you collected first editions, so if you have any I could reference I’d really appreciate it. It’s just that the library had none, and the county library had none and-“

“Of course you can use them.” Christopher Drake replied coolly and Clara felt like she could cry in relief. The door opened to her floor at the moment. “Would you like to come up now?”

Clara nodded, “If that’s fine with you.”

“Not a problem.” The door to her floor closed. “I’ve work to do in my office but you’re more than free to use my library.” The door opened again, this time to the ornate beauty of Christopher’s floor. Clara followed him out into the free space as he moved to unlock his door. It seemed he’d unpacked more, as she peaked inside, and actually found it to be completely organized and decorated. It had only been about a week since he moved in.

She spoke, “This place looks amazing. Did you do this?” A stupid question. No doubt he had people for such things…

He nodded, “Yes. All my doing. It’s old fashioned, I grant you, but I really can’t stand all the new modern style.”

“No, I like it,” Clara moved down the small hall to the library. Every shelf was covered in books now. All old and leather bound and making the whole room smell with that peculiar scent of books. If she had a room like this she’d never leave it. Once again, Clara had that same déjà vu. She ignored it. “Thank you so much,” She said sincerely. “Really: this is so nice of you. I don’t know how to repay you. I can make you cookies again. Or something else if you didn’t like the cookies.” He didn’t say anything. “I kind of just throw baked goods at people when I don’t know what else to do.”

He chuckled, “You needn’t make me anything: it’s really no problem.” He gave her that very peculiar look again and almost seemed like he was going to step nearer to her. Instead, he looked at his watch. “I’ll be in the office for a bit if you need me. Down the right hallway. Second door.”

“Thank you,” Clara repeated and he half smiled then walked away.

_See there,_ she thought, glancing around this library. _He doesn’t like you. If he had any interest in you, he’d be flirtatious._ Clara set down her backpack, walking towards the first shelf in sight. Of course, he did have work to do so perhaps she really shouldn’t take anything by this. Clara shut off this over analyzation and got to work. For certain he was not thinking of their interaction at all, so why on earth should she?

Clara got to work in the dense library. She put in her headphones, playing a list on shuffle to quiet her rampant mind. It seemed he had every book she needed which was convenient but slightly jarring for some reason. Too perfect, like everything about this damn man, Clara remarked to herself. In each edition, she took pictures of the pages she needed them returned them back to their spots neatly. Clara was so focused on her work and her music that she hadn’t even noticed Christopher Drake coming back into the room. So when he came up behind her and tapped her shoulder she was quite startled.

“Sorry,” he said immediately as she turned to face him. Clara took out her headphones and apologized as well. She wasn’t really sure why. “Are you finding everything all right?”

“Yes,” Clara nodded. “And thank you so much again.”

“It’s not a problem,” He said again, crossing to the small table and chairs in one of the corners. The tea tray from last week was out with two cups of coffee and a French press. 

“No one uses the books much anyway.” When he said this Clara had the funniest idea that someone had used the books before. Someone he did not much want to talk about.

He gestured to the tray, “Coffee? I needed some and thought I’d see if you wanted a cup.”

“Sure,” Clara answered and she thought he smiled a bit. Which he probably didn’t. “Thank you.” She watched as he poured out two cups so she sat in one of the armchairs before filling up her cup with cream and sugar. “I’ve almost finished, so I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

“You aren’t in the way, Clara. You needn’t worry about it.” He made his astute little point and then sat in the chair across from her. Maybe she made a face for he began to speak again. “Do you mind if I sit for a bit? I don’t especially feel like going back and working.”

Clara laughed a little. “It’s your house. You can sit where you like.” She’d meant it to be funny, but he did not laugh. She cleared her throat. “What’s wrong with work?” Clara’s mother had taught her one thing that she always kept with her: when you don’t know what to say, ask a question. Usually the more questions you asked the more the person would open up. And if a person opened up to you, it mean they liked you. Clara’s mother told her some sort of thing like that.

He sighed, “Company politics. It’s all very childish and not very contusive to…anything.” And when he raised the mug to his lips to take a swig, something in it was so very familiar than Clara felt her heart skip. _What the hell’s wrong with me?_ She scolded herself and took a swig of her own drink. “But my business is boring and not good to talk about.” 

That same stare. That odd (she knew it was odd) stare he gave her that seemed to gaze right into her soul. Maybe it was a business mogul thing or a rich person thing, but most of all it was extremely unsettling. He looked at her like he knew her so very well. Knew her almost intimately, which of course didn’t make any sense. How could Clara know an intimate stare? She’d never been intimate before and yet with him it felt…

“Well, don’t look at me.” Clara spoke to dismiss the sure flush rising on her face. “School’s not a particularly interesting thing to talk about and I don’t do much else besides write papers.”

That sent a little laugh to his lips which gave her a smile she covered with her mug. He just kept staring at her so she decided to speak again else the silence drown her.

“That makes me sound extremely lame.” Clara grasped the warm mug in her hands, feeling like its warmth traveled all around her skin. “I mean, I do other things.” Again with the staring. Was this some weird thing he did to get people to open up to him? It did seem to be working. “I read…which is probably obvious given my major. I take ballet lessons, even though I’m not very good at it. I’m in chamber choir at school. Um…I have a job… I went to a party once. I like the zoo. I go to movies.” Again, nothing. “Are you going to say anything or am I going to ramble into infinity?”

He chuckled, “Sorry.”

Clara shrugged, “It’s fine. I mean, I could ramble into infinity if that’s what you wanted.”

Christopher laughed again and it made little bubbles rise in her chest. Bubbles that she hated. They felt rather stupid and childish for some reason.

“I didn’t mean to keep you talking,” he said in his strangely familiar voice. “I’m just quite tired and it’s nice to hear someone talk about things that aren’t numbers.” Clara smiled sheepishly, drinking more of the impossibly good coffee. After a brief pause he asked, “One party?”

“What?”

“You said you went to ‘a party once’.”

She laughed heartily. “Yes: one party. I went to one college party my freshman year and quickly decided I did not like them.”

“Why not?” He asked, reclining a bit in his chair. _God, why are you so fucking handsome? Shit. Damn you. Fuck._ Clara tried to ignore her less than pure thoughts as she gaze at him now, this literal perfect incarnation of everything she wanted in a man. It was completely cruel of him to be so absolutely perfect. She blinked away her thoughts. 

“Everyone was drunk and on top of each other and so weirdly…out of it, I guess.” She felt the smoothness of her porcelain mug as she ran her thumb over it. Part of her wanted to shut up there, for no doubt he was just being polite and didn’t want to hear much more. “I just didn’t understand it, you know? So it felt kind of lonely. Like I didn’t belong there.”

_That was a weird thing to say, you goddamned weirdo._ In truth, Clara hated talking about these things and didn’t know why she’d said anything at all. Everyone liked parties. Or, everyone was meant to like parties. And everyone her age was meant to like getting drunk and hooking up and making out with strangers but Clara just did not and sort of hated herself for it. It was not for snobbery nor superiority, she just did not understand it. It did not make sense in her brain, though she understood fully in made sense in others. Such things that came so easily to others made absolutely no sense to her.

“So I don’t like parties in that sense of ‘party’.”

Again with the GODDAMNED STARING.

Clara sighed. “You’ve got to stop looking at me like that. Have I got a second head coming out of my shoulders?”

He blinked, “What?”

“You keep staring at me. It’s freaking me out.”

“I’m sorry,” Christopher said quicker than she thought he would. “I’m extremely tired and sort of drifting in and out of it.”

“It’s fine,” Clara answered. Her cup was now empty, so she set it down upon the tray. Part of her wished she’d hadn’t said anything for now everything felt awkward again. She spoke. “So what do you do for fun, Christopher Drake?”

Had she offended him with her comment? His eyes no longer rested on her and something in the air had changed. Something sad had taken it over, though Clara was not sure why. It seemed the air was full of sadness now. Thick, raw sadness. So, being the ridiculous human she was, Clara decided to take it upon herself to crack more of her infamously unfunny jokes.

She teased, “Come on Mr. Thirty under Thirty: What do you do for fun? Go yachting? Buy a country? Spend the week with Victoria Secret models?”

“What?”

“Julie suggested the Victoria Secret model theory. And I’m meant to tell you to invite her should you ever host a party with them.” Clara hoped he knew she was joking. It seemed, for a moment, like he didn’t know she was joking.

Christopher smirked, “Duely noted.” He took the last sip of his coffee. “And I’m afraid my past times are not as glamourous or interesting as that. I work a lot, though that’s not really a hobby. I read, watch movies, go for walks. I travel quite a bit. It’s always fun to people watch.”

“I’d always do the same when we went on family trips,” Clara piped in. She was excited they had something to talk about. It cleared the awkward air in the room. “People are always so different from place to place.”

“You see the same people on occasion.”

That was an extremely peculiar thing to say, but it seemed he was rather a fan of saying extremely cryptic things to her. That stare was back. The stare like he was trying to read her mind. He knew her. She knew him. Which, of course, made absolutely no sense. Thought it seemed he had a better grasp upon it than she did. If they did know each other, which of course they did not, he seemed to know far more about the matter than her. 

The awkwardness faded as their conversation began to flow. They talked for the absolute longest time. She’d ask him questions and he’d ask her questions and it all flowed with this familiarity and this feeling that they had done this many times before. Clara had never had problems making new friends, but making new friend with extremely attractive millionaires was entirely new territory. It wasn’t awkward though. It was like talking to someone who was already her friend. No, no it felt even more familiar than that. It was like talking to herself.

Though things became extremely weird soon thereafter. She’d taken up one of his books to show him a line or a phrase or something, but flipped the page too quickly and sliced her index finger like one would cut a feeble ribbon. 

“Ah, damn,” she swore as the stinging feeling pervaded her finger. She noted his gaze. “Paper cut. Do you have any Band-Aids?”

“Of course,” he responded very normally. “I’ll get you one.”

“Thank you,” Clara had responded. She pressed her thumb against it, knowing it would stop soon but the stinging was still quite irritating. He was back rather quickly and she thought he’d hand her the bandage. Instead he sat on his chair and moved it closer, pushing away her thumb from the small wound.

_This is super weird,_ Clara thought. She could on a Band-Aid herself, she didn’t need him to do it. And he wasn’t even putting a Band-Aid on her, though she saw it now sitting on the small end table. He kind of just staring at the blood in the most perplexing way. But the oddest part was that she wasn’t as freaked out as she should’ve been. A guy she really didn’t know that well staring at her bleeding finger should absolutely be in the Top Ten Weirdest Things to Happen to Clara, yet it wasn’t that odd. In her mind she pictured him lifting the wound up to his lips and kissing it.

_Drinking her blood. Clara stood in front of a candle as he came up behind her and took her wrist in his hand. In the mirror, she could only see her shadow ridden face reflected. God, if they saw him they would be so upset with her. Clara was not supposed to have invited him in. Clara was not supposed to have taken off the necklace or tossed away the Holy Water. She certainly shouldn’t be standing her in her undergarments letting him kiss her wrist in such a vulgar manner. Something hard and sharp scratched against the soft skin of her wrist. Clara gasped, her head falling softly back onto his chest as fangs penetrate her skin…_

Clara of the present pulled her hand away from him immediately. He looked up, whatever trance that had overtaken him flying away. _What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?_ She plucked the Band-Aid from the end table, tearing off the end and wrapping it around her finger tightly. Christopher Drake sat back like none of that had been weird. What was that? A memory? Not a memory, of course. Yet the woman in the mirror had been her. Like, Victorian Era her, but still her. And the man behind her… She had not seen his reflection, but something in her knew it was him. It had to be him.

“I have to go,” Clara announced, standing up and grabbing her books from the table. His books. “Tonight’s wine night, you know. I can’t be late.”

“Wine night?” He remarked cordially, standing up as well. God, she could hardly even look at him and yet all she could do was stare. What was that? Had you seen that too?

Clara shrugged, “It used to be Girl’s Night, but then the boys got jealous.”

“Ah. Boyfriend?”

“God, no,” Clara laughed awkwardly. “Just a bunch of dorky English kids playing Wii games, really. Julie told me to tell you to stop by.”

She wasn’t sure why she kept using Julie as her scapegoat. She wasn’t sure why she had still invited him after…after whatever the hell that had been. Perhaps she was crazy. Maybe just overtired. Yes, she’d hardly slept this week and no doubt that contributed. Or possessed by a ghost. Yep. That was it. She’d seen a movie like that one time. Well, a Lifetime movie.

“See you, then,” Clara said before he could answer. “And thanks for the books!”


	3. Sleepwalking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara springs into action when Julie goes sleepwalking

"There is not enough wine in the world to endure whatever that is the boys are singing."

Katie sat on the small couch next to Clara, putting her feet up on the coffee table and rolling her head back. Clara half laughed, listening to Elliot and Nick doing a truly horrendous rendition of "Dream On" on Rock Band.

Clara had been so distracted all night. Whatever that weird vision was she'd had at Christopher's had shocked her and not in any sort of a good way. Clara was not one accustomed to having visions. She was not a physic nor a medium nor any combination of the two. The most stirring part was that it had not felt like a vision but a memory. Which, of course, could not be. And yet…

Katie nudged her, "You okay?"

"What?" Clara blinked. "I mean, yeah. This week is just killing me." She sipped the little bit that was left of her glass. She had not realized she'd nearly drunk it all. It gave little effect, seeing as it was the cheapest wine anyone could buy at the Party Supply store.

"I feel ya," Katie nodded, sipping her drink. She brightened, "But hey, how was sexy man's apartment?"

Clara huffed, feeling that twisting feeling in her chest again. There was something not right. Something completely not right. Something rotten in the state of Demark. Clara did not like whatever feeling this man was giving her. Weird feelings of nostalgia and loss for something she neither missed nor had taken from her. It stabbed in her lower left hip like indigestion or extreme excitement. Yet she did not know him. She could not know him.

She wanted to go back to his apartment. She wanted to never see him again.

And if she focused on these feelings for too long, she started feeling sick in another way. Feeling sick in a way she knew that was bad for her. Feeling so sick and anxious how she had before. Clara did not like feeling that way. She would not feel that way. She could control her own damn mind. At least now she could. This was not like before. Not like before with the hospitals and overnight stays and worried parents. Clara was not crazy. Even if she was seeing visions.

"It was fine," Clara shrugged. "I got the books I needed."

"Don't downplay it!" Julie appeared and slid into the barely available spot on the other side of Clara. She leaned over the formerly named person like she was not even there. "He made her coffee and they sat and talked for nearly an hour!"

Clara groaned dryly, "Yes. We're getting married next Tuesday. You're all invited."

Julie scoffed, "He likes you, Clara."

"Or maybe he's just a nice person, Julie."

But Julie would not hear reason and moved past the subject of Christopher Drake. Clara was glad, for she felt too often they spoke about the man upstairs (Christopher, not God). The night continued with more stupid video games and even more wine, though Clara did not partake in the later. She did not feel much like being drunk. Her own mind was jumbled up enough without adding alcohol to it.

Christopher Drake did not appear for wine night, which sort of disappointed her but more so relieved her. If she had to see him again… Even thinking about seeing him again gave her chest pains. Not good, happy butterfly chest pains. Strange ones. Very strange ones.

Soon the night turned to morning and everyone left, having sobered up enough to drive themselves back home. Clara and Julie were left in their room. Julie, having seen no reason to become sober, was still very drunk and very giggly. Once assuring herself that her friend was safely in bed and had a garbage can beside, Clara went off to sleep and tried to forget the strangeness of the afternoon. She tried very hard to forget all the weird things, until around four a.m. she heard the front door slam shut.

Now, such a sound is never a welcome one when one is sleeping. For a moment, Clara was absolutely paralyzed in fear. She was never a fan of sudden, loud noises. It was one of the reasons for the hospitals and overnight stays and extremely worried parents. But Clara was not a child any longer and would not be paralyzed in fear over a noise. She tossed her legs to the side and stood. Her blue robe she slid over her pajamas, opening her bedroom door cautiously.

Nothing. There was nothing. In fact, nothing at all seemed wrong until Clara noted Julie's open bedroom door.

"Damn it," Clara swore. She darted back into her own room and put on her glasses. She took her keys and out the front door she went, knowing full well what had happened.

Julie had a nasty little habit of sleep walking. It was usually brought on by stress or any other outside factors. Drinking could sometime be an outside factor. This hadn't happened since they moved in, but there had been several nights of trying to find Julie in dorm hallways. So Clara did not think anything amiss at first. She looked around the floor's lobby and hall, but did not see her friend. Then a moving object outside the window caught her eye.

Julie had gotten outside. How on earth had she gotten outside? Never had she done that before. Clara turned to the stairs and rushed down them, trying not to slide in the dimly lit corridor. She went out the side door and searched desperately for movement, wishing she'd thought to bring her cellphone or a flashlight or something.

"Julie!"

Probably a bad idea. You weren't meant to wake someone while they were sleepwalking so you probably weren't meant to scream at them either. Julie was still asleep, so even if Clara yelled it probably wouldn't help. At least it added noise to the dense and dark air. Clara felt her breaths going ragged and she yelled herself to stay calm. Inconveniently, panic attacks could not turn on and off so easily.

 _You have to find Julie,_ she told her ridiculously stupid brain. _Find Julie. Panic later._

Clara rounded the building and faced the small forest that separated Carfax Apartments from the rest of the world. That was where she saw Julie. At first, all she saw was Julie and Clara took off in full sprint towards her. That was when things became weird again.

Julie was not alone. There was something half covered in the shadow that was behind her. It didn't look human though it had the shape of a person standing tall. Very tall. It looked like it was made of darkness and yet had pierced red eyes that suddenly looked up at stared at her. She should've been more scared. Any person would've fainted or run away screaming and yet it didn't frighten her as it should. It was alarming, but alarming like seeing someone you have not seen in a long time. Such a very long time.

Clara noted that Julie's neck had red on it. Blood. The thing was drinking her blood. This was insane. Clara was dreaming. Dreaming about dark shadowy vampires attacking her friend.

"Leave her!" Clara commanded, not sure where such new found confidence had come from. She was not one to yell at strange, shadowy figures. Especially not one to charge them now. As Clara approached her friend, the things dispersed and Julie fell to the ground like she weighed nothing at all. Whatever blood Clara had thought she'd seen was gone, but Clara had been so very certain it was there. There was not a mark on Julie at all. For a moment, Clara wondered if she'd imagined it all. She'd seen things earlier in the day, perhaps she was seeing things again now.

Then it was back. The creature was back and this time behind her. Clara did not have to turn to know it was there. She and this creature knew each other very well. A hand that felt as cold as marble reached down and stroked her cheek. A strangely adoring touch, that both terrified and excited her. She'd felt this cold marble hand before though she could not remember quite when. It trailed its fingers on her neck and she knew that sometime long ago she had felt those fingers in places far more intimate than that. Her face was flushing. Her pulse was racing, for this thing had come for her. It had come for her, not Julie. How it wanted her. How she wanted it…

It was gone.

That's when it was gone and the panic set in. The panic set in like it always did: quickly and very powerfully. It was a stupid thing to be overrun by it, really. You know you should not be feeling this way, but the feeling seizes you anyway. It constricts your mind and takes away your air and leaves you feeling more vulnerable and helpless than the smallest child. Which is a damned way to feel. It is not cute nor romantic, the way it often is in novels. No one comes up and kisses your imaginary wounds and tells you everything is going to be fine. It is just you alone, fighting off monsters you cannot see.

At least that's never how it was for Clara. Clara refused to let anyone help her when panic took her. They'd helped her in the hospital and it made her feel like a damned idiot. Clara could calm herself down. She just needed to sit. To sit and too breathe and take medicine should the panic not subside. She knew how to take care of it, though she thought it the stupidest of maladies too have. It was not cute. It was not romantic.

And now she was holding Julie. Julie who was asleep and probably shouldn't be awakened. Clara could hardly speak if she wanted her friend to wake up anyway. Clara could hardly breathe or even see. She wondered if that monster would come back. She wondered if the monster was even real.

Several minutes passed like this. Clara yelled and screamed at herself to move or to speak and found she could not. _Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid stupid._

"Clara?"

 _Of fucking course. Of fucking course he would appear like some goddamned shinning night._ Clara pressed her eyes shut. _I don't need his help. I don't need anyone's help, I can handle this. Speak. Move. Do something, damn you!_

She wanted to turn around to the voice, but found she absolutely could not move. Those marble fingers were still touching her face in her near memory. Those red eyes were still staring at her. It was going to come back. The monster was going to come back because Clara just knew it was. Clara felt Christopher's hand rest on her shoulder, and she wondered what the fuck he was doing out here in the first place.

He knelt neck to her. "My God, what happened? Are you all right? Is she all right?"

"Julie was sleepwalking," Clara sniffed. She hoped her voice did not betray her fear. It was so hard to talk. "She's asleep now and I'm afraid to wake her. She used to do this when we were in high school and in the dorms and her mom always said not to wake her. I can carry her upstairs: I just need a moment. I just need-" Her voice caught in a sob that betrayed her in an instant. He definitely knew she was crying now and needed help. _I don't need help. I'm fine. There are no monsters. I just have to get Julie upstairs. I just have to..._

He brushed her hair, "Shh." He was too close for someone who did not know her that well. He pushed the hair out of her glasses and brushed it behind her neck. "It's all right, Clara. It's all right. We'll get her upstairs. Everything will be fine."

She sniffed, reaching her free hand to her eyes and trying to pretend like there was not water running down her face or snot coming from her nose. Maybe he'd believe too if she was convincing enough, which she could not be at this point. Clara turned to face him and realized soon that was a horrible idea for he was handsome and looking at her with such concern. He shouldn't be looking at her like that, he should be looking at Julie like that. Julie was the one unconscious. But maybe it's because Clara was nearly hyperventilating by that point for she'd just seen a monster but not been nearly as frightened of it as she should have been. It had stroked her cheek and not frightened her as it should have done. Which was insane. This was all insane.

Christopher was just staring at her so strangely as her eyes were glassy with tears. Why did he always look at her like she was so familiar? His hand reached out and touched her cheek. That was far too intimate. They did not know each other well enough for that.

Then Julie awoke so suddenly that Clara gasped. Her friend sat up slowly, staring at the two surely shocked faces now gazing at her.

Julie blinked, "Sleepwalking?"

Clara nodded.

"Damn," Julie swore then laughed a bit. She seemed to finally noticed Christopher then. "Why are you out here? What time is it?"

"I couldn't sleep and I saw you from my window." Clara noted that Christopher's arm was still around her. She was not sure how she felt about that, but it was not making the panic any better. It beat inside of her like a low tambour drum. She felt like she was going to be sick.

"You were sleepwalking," Clara spoke. Her voice hardly sounded like anything at all and she despised it. "I was so frightened. You really freaked me out." Stop talking, she told herself. She felt her cheeks filling with tears and her breathing speeding up. Julie's eyes widened, realizing what was happening.

"Clara, you all right?" She leaned and pressed her hand over her friends. "It's fine Clar, baby. I'm fine." This was bad. This was a bad one. And Julie looking at her like that was only making it all worse. Calling her baby. Clara was not a baby. She would be fine if everyone stopped fawning over her. Clara could hardly breathe as the tears streamed down her face and shook her body. "Do you have your medicine?"

"It's in the room," Clara spoke without breath.

Christopher spoke up, "Clara, do you want me to help you?" She brushed his hand aside immediately. She had not even meant to do that really, he had just come to close to her. And she didn't need help, she'd be fine. Maybe.

"We need to get Julie back upstairs," Clara said plainly.

Julie half laughed, "I'm quite all right, Clara. It's you we need to get back upstairs now, sweetie." Clara always hated when Julie called her that. She always said things like that when Clara panicked. Like she was a little child. Clara felt like a little child. "Can you walk?"

"I'm fine," Clara insisted. As though to show them, she moved to stand and found she could not. Christopher took hold of her immediately though she really did not want him to. She could walk. This was humiliating. She was not a child. This was not cute, nor endearing, this was awful. Clara stepped again, "I'll be fine."

Christopher spoke, "Do we need to take her to the hospital?"

"No," Julie's voice was on the other side of Clara. Christopher kept his arm on Clara as they walked. "She's just got a panic disorder. They don't come on super often, but she's got some pills for when they do up in her room." Clara wanted to make a remark but found she couldn't speak. She could barely hold her eyes open truly. "It was probably the stress. And, you know, my sleepwalking didn't help. The attacks can happen sometimes when routine is thrown off."

_Please stop telling him all the details of my medical history. Are you going to tell him about the hospital stays too? My family life? The whole Clara backstory?_

Julie touched Clara's hand, "Clar, you're looking really faint. Did you have dinner?"

She considered lying, but ended up shaking her head no. As she did she stumbled again and Christopher held tight to her.

"Well, you're gonna eat when we get back up there, all right?"

Clara shook her head no again.

"I'm going to be sick," Clara said weakly and felt her vision swaying as they reached the stairs to the lobby. Then Clara was not walking anymore. She was still conscious and recognized that now she was being held by the man she did not especially want to be held up by. It was so familiar to be in his arms. It was so familiar to lie against his chest and inhale the scent of him. _God, I am crazy._

They were in the elevator and again he asked if they should take her to the hospital and Julie insisted that they need not. Clara was about to say that the keys were in her pocket when they reached the door but Clara soon realized that she hadn't even locked it all.

Christopher hesitated, "Can I come in?"

Julie didn't even turn around, "Yeah, totally. It's a bit messy; we had some friends over. Just put Clara on the couch and I'll get her stuff."

They were inside and Clara was taken to the couch she and her friends had been sitting on earlier. Julie ran to get water, pills, and a snack for Clara. Christopher seemed to have decided he would be best served to kneel in front of Clara on the ground. That was another moment where things became peculiar.

" _Amorul meu_ ," he spoke softly in a voice that didn't sound like his usual one. He spoke in a language that certainly wasn't his usual one. "It's going to be all right. I'm here. Don't be frightened."

Clara didn't know why he was saying such things or why it felt so familiar for him to be saying such things. He continued brushing her cheek with his thumb.

"What's happening to me?" Clara whispered.

"Everything will be fine. I'm here. I won't let anything hurt you."

Clara continued laying there, her hand clutching the pillow and her whole body feeling like it was not connected to her. His hands ran from her hair to her arm, stroking her softly and murmuring things she could not understand. As he did it, she felt the panic fading and her eyes falling. She could fall asleep here. Clara could sleep happily with him watching over.

"Here we go, Clar," Julie appeared and knelt down next to Christopher. Whatever dreamland Clara had briefly floated to was gone. "Here's your medicine and some water. A granola bar too."

Clara sat up slowly, murmuring a thanks and taking her medicine swiftly. It did not affect her immediately, but she knew it would not take long until she felt the calming effects of it over take her body. She ate the granola bar quickly and wondered why Christopher had decided to stay through all of this. Julie took away Clara's wrapper and the empty water glass and said something about needing to use the restroom. Clara thanked her and said she'd be fine to get to bed on her own. Then again she was left alone with Christopher. She wondered again why he had stayed.

"Thank you for helping," Clara said quietly after a long period of staring. It seemed he wanted to speak, but Clara kept talking. "I don't get them very often, but I used to get them a lot. It was probably the stress and the not eating. And I thought I saw something when I was looking for Julie, but I didn't. I was just freaked out."

"Of course," he acknowledged in his usual voice.

Clara breathed, "I'm fine though. I probably will just go to bed." To prove she was fine, Clara stood up and was steady on her feet. Even so, he reached to hold her. Why do I know you? Clara wanted to scream at him but figured it would just make her seem crazier. She felt crazy.

"Thank you again." Clara mumbled.

Christopher leaned down and placed a kiss upon her forehead. It startled her so much that she could hardly move. She was held near to him, but even so it did not disconcert her to now be in his arms. Clara felt very comfortable in his arms.

"Good night, Clara," he said. In an instant, he was gone and Clara wondered if she'd just made up the whole thing.

**OOO**

Clara had a dream after Christopher left. A dream that she would not remember in the morning except for small bits of it. In this dream, she was walking into some mansion she had entered many times before. The staff recognized her and smiled as they let her in. She asked about someone and they said he still was not feeling well. Clara frowned at this, but still trotted inside regardless. On the table in the hall there was a plate of chocolates. She'd mentioned once that she quite liked sweets and since then there was always a tray for her. Clara had never said anything to the man about it but she knew he'd done it just for her. He was so kind like that.

Eventually, she entered a library that she always entered. The library was absolutely gigantic: two whole levels of books on tall shelves. Yet Clara was not so overwhelmed for she had been there many times before. The windows were shut as they always were. The man who lived there had an aversion to sunlight she had never questioned in their weeks of companionship.

That's all it was: companionship. Her friend, Lucy, had insisted that they were courting but that was not true. The man, Vladimir Dracula, had traveled all the way from Transylvania and hadn't a friend in all of London besides her and Jonathan. Jonathan mostly focused on the business things though. Clara…Mina, yes that was her name…had found she really enjoyed the Count's company and stories and spent many a day with him. Mina would always lie and say someone accompanied her to avoid a scandal, but in truth it was usually her alone with the Count for hours and hours. She trusted him, though. He never tried anything to harm her or make her uncomfortable.

Companionship is all it was for certainly he was not feeling those strange stirrings that she was feeling. Certainly nothing had stirred inside of him from their time spent together as something had stirred inside of her.

She did so like him. He was worldlier than any man she had ever met. He was handsomer than any man she'd ever met either, but that did not matter as much. He was kind. He was so kind and never spoke to her like she was not his equal. Mina so enjoyed her visits with him, even though he'd been feeling sick over the past few days. It had been quite awful the day before. They'd barely taken tea when he broke into a coughing fit.

Then that night… That night was when all the peculiar things happened with Lucy. Yes, yesterday had been a bad day indeed.

"Hello!" Mina said cheerily to the man sitting in the chair. His head was dropped down at the neck, a blanket draped around his shoulders. His long hair was tied behind him as it always was, but drooped now neck to his fallen face.

"Miss Murray," he raised his head slightly but did not open his eyes. "You can't imagine how sorry I am to delay our tea again, but I find I'm feeling far worse than I felt yesterday."

Mina stepped further in, going towards him slowly. She got all the way to his chair and sat squarely on the ottoman in front of him.

"Miss Murray, please. I would not forgive myself if I made you sick by contagion."

She reached out, brushing his forehead with the back of her palm. This was a bit peculiar a behavior, but not too much so. They were friends, after all.

"You're extremely cold, Count Dracula," Mina said. "I think you should go to hospital."

He shook his head, "I should be fine, Miss Murray-"

"Why don't you open your eyes?" She asked cordially.

Count Dracula sighed, "Miss Murray-"

"Open your eyes."

After a moment's hesitation, he did and Mina felt her heart stop.

Red eyes. He had red eyes like that thing that had attacked Lucy last night. Lucy who'd run out sleepwalking into the night. Mina had found her standing with some beast's fangs in her neck. The beast had pulled away and gazed at Mina for the longest time. Gazed at Mina with bright red eyes. It seemed to want Mina very badly.

She gasped, tripping as she stood and moving away from this man she had thought to be her friend. He stood quickly. Far too quickly. Mina was going to be sick. This could not be happening.

"Mina, please," he started, reaching a hand for her. Mina backed up immediately, wanting to run but not remembering quite how. They had thought it was him. There was some beast terrorizing Whitby and her friends had thought it might be Count Dracula. Mina had thought that quite silly. Obviously the attacks were being caused by some wolf or dog or other beast. It was not a monster. It was not a vampire, or whatever Jack Seward had suggested. Mina had not even remotely believed that theory until last night. Even so, the beast could not have been Count Dracula.

Mina stammered, "Y-you hurt Lucy. L-last night-t. That was y-you."

She hated stammering. She hated how her heart was pounding and how her legs could not move. It would come over her at times like this. At times like last night. The doctor's called it hysteria, but Mina knew that was a made up disease. She wasn't sure what it was, but it was certainly not pleasant when it struck. In times of crisis one's body was meant to help them, not hinder them.

He made no attempt to come closer to her, which was good for she really didn't want him to. Mina considered yelling out for help, but figured the staff knew about him. Perhaps the staff knew all along. Did the doorman know about this as he smiled as Mina took a sweet? Took a sweet. How stupid. How could Mina have spent so much time with this man and not suspected a thing? Red eyes. His red eyes stared at her now out of his inhumanly gaunt face.

"I did not mean to harm Lucy," he said and Mina wanted to believe him. "I mean you no harm either, Mina. I will never harm you."

"You drank her blood." Mina's tongue felt dry as she said it. So far back she had moved now that she was against the wall.

"I have to drink blood."

Mina almost laughed yet there was no humor to be had. He did look so impossible ill. If he did need blood to survive. If he was this…vampire, as Jack had called him, then why look so ill? He had fed, obviously, so one would think the sickness would be gone. This is mental. This man is a madman. Or I am a hysterical woman. Mina hadn't the faintest.

Mina blubbered, "Lucy is very sick. You made her very sick."

"Lucy will be fine," he said angrily, turning away from her and retreating back to his chair. It must hurt to stand, for he collapsed rather suddenly back into his chair. Count Dracula rested his head on his hand and seemed so much older for some reason. "My infection will not spread to her."

"Infection?" Mina asked tentatively. She wasn't sure why she was still there. She should've run. The logical thing to do was to run.

"Vampirism, Miss Murray. It didn't take to her."

Mina pressed, "Why Lucy?" She moved nearer though she knew she should not. "Why go all the way to Whitby for Lucy?"

His red eyes flickered up, "I did not go all the way to Whitby for Lucy, Miss Murray."

**OOO**

"Christopher?"

Again, there he was most unexpectedly. At least this time she was not in her pajamas and didn't have on her glasses. Though she was wearing a shirt with a cat embroidered into the front pocket, so perhaps she was always to meet him wearing something really, really stupid. Though, of course, she was not planning for him to be sitting in her living room when she walked out of her bedroom.

Julie came out of the kitchen, "G'monring, Clar. How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Clara said instantly. Julie did not seem the least bit bothered that Christopher was sitting in their living room. Well, standing now. He'd stood when Clara had walked out. Which was weird and old fashioned but Christopher definitely was weird and old fashioned.

"Chris just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing."

 _Chris?_ Clara remarked. _Probably just Julie being weird. Nothing to freak out about._

"I'm fine," Clara repeated. It felt like the walls were getting closer, or maybe that was just because Christopher was giving her that weird stare again. She thought about that monster by Julie and wondered if she'd just made it up. Probably. Probably but…but it had touched her. It had touched her and she'd known it. And Christopher had kissed her forehead. He had felt so familiar when she was in her arms. He'd called her some name in a language she did not know…

Maybe Clara was not completely insane, for Julie seemed to notice the staring and the tension and retreated back to her bedroom.

"So you're all right?" He asked sweetly. Clara could hit him. She could claw his eyes out. He knew something was odd. Clara had a feeling he knew far more than she did. She wasn't sure why she felt that way.

She nodded, "I took my medicine and I'll be fine."

"Good," Christopher acknowledged. He moved a step forward and Clara retreated.

"As you see: right as rain. Now, if you'd excuse me, I have to get to class."

Christopher moved nearer, "Clara-"

She put up her hand, "I don't know what…" Clara shook her head. "Never mind. I have to go. Good bye, Christopher."


	4. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dracula sets a plan in motion to be alone with Clara

After school and work that following day, Clara went right back to her apartment and to sleep as soon as she could. Attacks often left her tired, especially one as sudden and intense as her last one. Hallucinating, she supposed, might also be making her tired. Going completely and utterly insane may too be contributing. None of it made any sense. Nothing made any sense so Clara decided she needed to ignore it else she really go crazy. And maybe she was getting sick. Maybe she just needed some sleep. Julie seemed very concerned for Clara’s wellbeing when she came home from work and went right to her room.

“Are you all right?” Julie asked. She’d walked into Clara’s bedroom without permission. That seemed to be a habit of hers. Again, without permission, she’d come and sat next to Clara on the bed.

“I’m fine.” Clara’s voice was muffled by the pillow so it sounded more like: ‘M fah.’

Julie sighed, “I’m sorry about last night.”

“It’s not your fault,” Clara yawned. She shut her eyes and hoped Julie would get the memo. She did not. 

“Well, I’m sorry regardless. And I’m sorry about Christopher. That was weird.”

“It was fine,” Clara said just to calm Julie down. “I probably couldn’t have walked upstairs anyway, but you know how stubborn I am.” She sighed, “It’s good that he was there.”

Maybe it was, but she couldn’t escape that feeling she got whenever he was near. A warning almost. Something in her told her he was dangerous. Then why was she so drawn to him? Why did another part of her tell her that he was her friend? A very good friend. It was like she was in love with him and terrified of him all at once. Which made no sense.

“I’m really tired, Jules.”

Julie jumped up, “Yeah, of course. Sorry.”

“No problem.”

“G-night, Clara.”

“Good night, Julie.”  
 **OOO**  
Clara was dreaming.

She was pretty certain she was dreaming. If this were real life, she would not be so fearless. Clara was not one to sit up and go investigate a noise in the middle of the night. The slamming door was one thing. That was not a sinister sound for Clara knew why the door had slammed. This noise, however, was something Clara would usually ignore and try to sleep over. The sound was someone rapping at the window. Knocking at it so lightly that it could’ve easily been rain or leaves or any number of things. It was not something Clara would’ve woke up to check upon, so this had to be a dream.

For Clara did get up to check upon the noise. 

Her room had a balcony. It was not an accessible one, so she did not know how anyone was knocking upon it. Yet she felt no fear as she went to open it. Where, if this were not a dream, she certainly wouldn’t have opened the balcony door in the middle of the night. Not in the fall, especially. The nights could get so very cold.

Clara opened the door and standing there was _him_. She could not remember his name, but this was someone she’d met many times before. This was someone she’d dreamt about ever since she was a child. This was him. This man she knew and did not know. This man that terrified her and excited her all at once. She did love him so much, this man. She just couldn’t remember his name. His name didn’t matter. She loved him.

“May I come in?” He spoke in that low voice she’d heard in her head all her life. Dream Clara spoke an invitation and the man came inside with one step. What was she wearing? She felt like she were naked; it was so cold outside. The door shut behind him as he came nearer to her. He did not even turn around to close it. 

They were standing very close and Clara felt very small next to him. He was so very tall. Tall, strong, ad very powerful was this man and she liked being so near to him. Clara was certain she had not stood this close to anyone before. Clara did not like standing too close to people; it usually made her uncomfortable. This man did not. Standing close to him did not feel strange. It felt a bit terrifying, but it did not feel strange. She looked up at him and saw that his eyes were red. That too was terrifying, but it did not scare her. He reached his hand and brushed her face as softly as if it were his own skin. Then his lips locked against hers but that didn’t scare her either. Clara had not been kissed before, but she had kissed this man many times.

They kissed for such a long time but Clara did not grow tired of it. She wanted to keep kissing him forever. It had been such a long time since they had kissed. This was a dream anyways, so it did not matter. They could kiss the whole dream away for all that she cared. She liked having her arms around him. She knew him very well.

“I love you,” the dream man said to her in between kisses. “I have missed you.”

“Missed me?” Clara asked dreamily. Her fingers played with his hair. To be a dream he felt so very real.

“Terribly,” the dream man breathed into her ear.

She wished he’d kiss her again, but they began moving. Moving closer to her bed, she noted. Soon she was sat upon it and he knelt in front of her. Clara put her hands back in his long, dark hair. She wished she could remember his name. His name felt very important. His red eyes studied her strangely as she sat upon her bed. The strap of her nightdress fell; she felt it on her shoulder. If it fell further she would be exposed. Yet that thought didn’t worry her as much as she felt it should. He just kept staring at her so intently. What was he thinking?

“God, I want to—“ The dream man sat up on his knees like he was going to kiss her again. It was almost like he was going to push her back on her bed and kiss her. Clara would not have been averse to that. His hands sat now on her thighs and that didn’t scare her either. His red eyes were nearly level with her own now.

“I’m in Hell wanting you.” His voice was so low that it made her tired again. It would be very nice to rest in his arms, she thought. His hands moved to her waist, then her breasts for just a moment. She thought he was going to move them, but his fingers began brushing her small breasts softly as she sat there. It did not make her uncomfortable, for this had happened before, she was sure. Happened before and she had been so happy about it. When was that? She could not remember.

Clara liked him touching her. His touch was soft and gentle and he didn’t seem to care that she had such small breasts. Clara felt her sex growing heavy and warm and should’ve been more alarmed by that but was not. He came and kissed her again and Clara needed him. She had been with this dream man before, she knew it. He had loved her some very long time ago. She could not remember when.

His hand moved between her legs in this dream and slid beneath her underwear. It did not frighten her for him to touch her, for he had touched her before. He touched her softy there, like he thought he might hurt her. He could not hurt her. He was her own. He was her own soul. Clara pressed her lips against his and her sex against his hand. She did not want him to stop. He needed to never stop. They kissed as he touched her as he’d touched her before on that day she could not remember. She loved him so much. Her Vladimir. Her Dracula.

Yes. Yes, that was his name. The name sent shivers all over her skin and a sudden prick of fear in the back of her neck. Dracula was an enemy. Dracula was not a friend: they had warned her. He was not to be trusted. She should not be kissing him. His hands should not be upon her. Clara knew all of this and yet could not allow it to stop. She did not want it to stop.

He pleasured her until she climaxed and he slowly removed his fingers from her. She felt strangely robbed of their space when he took them away. He could not just leave now, though Clara knew he intended to go.

“Please stay,” Clara whispered in his air as her fingers scratched at the hairs on his neck.

He kissed her, “You’ll see me again tomorrow.”

“Stay with me,” she pleaded. It felt desperate, but she did not care. “Make me yours again: I want you. I’ve missed you.”

“My angel,” he breathed as he traced her outline with his hand. He kissed her lips strongly and she wondered if he might heed her request. “We’ll be together again soon.”

“I love you,” Clara replied, but the dream had already ended.  
 **OOO**  
Clara woke in the morning to light coming in through the curtains. She remembered the dream clearly, but could not remember the name or the face of the man in it. It had been a nice dream and the feelings had felt real. Clara had had dreams like that on occasion. It usually meant she hadn’t pleasured herself in a while. Perhaps that was something she needed to do today.

Saturday. Clara already had far too many things to for a Saturday. She needed to clean, for one things. Run errands as well. Boring things to do, truth be told, but things that needed to be done. Clara awoke too early for Julie to even dream of being awake and started on her errands. It was nice to occupy her mind for a while. The tedious chores kept her mind free of all the strange demons that had been chewing at it.

She called her father and talked to him for a while. Clara’s mother had passed away long ago, but the loss was still a sting she felt from time to time. Her father and she were rather close, but her father was one she did not see often. They were both too bust for frequent visits, but Clara didn’t mind it. He was always just a call away should she need his voice. She had needed his voice then. The panic attack was not something she spoke of. Nor were the hallucinations. He would just worry, she was certain.

During the call, Clara’s phone had dinged quite a bit. The group message of her friends was rife with texts. There was some party tonight, apparently, and they had all elected to go.

Julie was awake when Clara came back from the grocery store.

“Come to the party tonight,” Julie instructed before Clara even set down her bags.

Clara huffed, “I’ve got papers due Monday, Julie. So do you.”

“Oh, shut up,” Julie groaned. “I know you’re not even going to do homework. You’re going to watch Netflix or YouTube or read a book and then go to bed before midnight. You won’t even touch your homework until tomorrow, so come out with us!” Clara stared at her blankly as she began unloading the groceries. Julie bit her lip like a child.

“Ugh, fine,” Clara relented and her friend cheered quietly. Why not? She did not like parties, but why not go? It might make her feel less crazy to go. It might make her think less about the hallucinations and the visions and whatever the Hell else was going on. 

Julie beamed, “It’ll be so fun, Clar. We’ll get ready together. Katie and Samantha are going to meet us here and then we’ll head over.”

“M’kay,” Clara said as she began to put groceries away. A party. Yes, a party could help. A party should help. Anything to help would be greatly appreciated. 

As Julie prattled, Clara found herself glancing to her friend’s neck and finding nothing there. Julie had not mentioned it, Clara knew. Julie had not seen or felt anything, so Clara had to have imagined it. She’d been watching too many scary movies. She’d been reading too many weird books. There had been nothing outside with Julie. 

Christopher had not called Clara a pet name. He had not kissed her forehead.

Nothing at all strange had happened.

And nothing at all strange would happen.  
 **OOO**  
The universe, it seemed, blatantly refused Clara’s wish for nothing strange to happen. Strange things began happening before Clara even left the apartment. Julie was very insistent on dressing Clara up like a Barbie doll and Clara let her do so because it made her happy and Julie had seemed a little stressed of late. Maybe it was because of the monster in the parking lot, but it was probably because she and her sister had been fighting again. They didn’t really talk about it, but Clara knew. Julie hardly discussed her problems, even with Clara.

But Clara could not deny that Julie was acting a bit strangely. Julie was drifting off into her own mind far more frequently than she ever did. Clara was the introverted one, not Julie. Julie fed off of energy and life and people; it was peculiar that she had gone quiet in the last few days. Clara’s mind went back to the monster in the parking lot that could not be real. _It cannot be real._

At the end of Clara’s make up session, she looked more or less the same. Which she liked. Her lips were red though, that stood out. Her blonde hair was curled and half up in a way that looked more romantic than Clara had anticipated. She sort of expected some crazy party girl music video look, but found this one suit her more. As she looked at her reflection, Clara couldn’t help but think she looked like someone she knew. She could not remember who though.

“What do you wanna wear?” Julie asked as Clara studied her reflection in the mirror.

Clara shrugged, “What are you wearing?”

“Shirt, crop top, boots.” Julie held up the items as she listed them. “I know you don’t like crop tops. We’ll find you something.”

The ‘something’ they found turned out to be a white lace long sleeve shirt and some black shorts of Julie’s because apparently Clara’s were too long. It was a nice outfit. It showed enough skin but didn’t make her uncomfortable. Again, Clara thought she looked like someone but didn’t know who.

The party itself was not all that riveting. A house party, so everything was close and cramped which Clara was not a fan of. At least there were friends to talk to and that made it all bearable. Clara couldn’t even remember what they were talking about. She had a few drinks; not enough to be drunk, but enough to no longer be sober. No one was weird or creepy like they were in movies, but Clara supposed that would happen at a party larger than this one. Besides, Clara made no real efforts to talk to anyone she did not know all too well.

About two hours in Clara regretted having gone. The party had grown a bit dull. Clara was not as drunk as those around her. Everyone soon became interested in either making out which each other or flirting with each other and Clara wanted nothing to do with either of those things. That loneliness she had told Christopher about flooded her system all so suddenly. Christopher. God, she didn’t want to fucking think about him. What was his problem, making her feel so goddamned stupid? He made her so weak, so girlish. A crush. Clara never had crushes. How dare he be so attractive and scholarly and handsome and gentlemanly and…

“Jules: how late are we saying?” Clara asked her friend when she found her alone in the kitchen. Julie made a sound between a sigh and a cough and Clara knew her friend was drunk. Very drunk. _What the fuck?_ Julie was driving. Julie was driving and said that she wouldn’t drink that much. Julie wouldn’t be sober so several hours if she was as drunk as she seemed.

Clara loved her friend dearly, but Julie could really be a dumbass sometimes.

“You said you weren’t drinking,” Clara spoke coolly. She suddenly felt a lot more sober.

Julie laughed, “It’s fine, Clar. We can stay the night!”

“Stay the night?” Clara said and instantly that flutter in her chest struck up again. No. No, goddamnit it, no! She was not going to have a panic attack here. What the fuck were these panic attacks? She hadn’t had one in nearly a year and then two in one week? Clara told her hormones to mind their own damn business but knew it would not hold out for long. Stay the night. Clara would not stay the night with a stranger. It took Clara until she was fifteen to just stay the night with friends!

Clara shook her head, “No. No, Jules, you know I can’t do that.”

“Right,” Julie hiccupped. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Clara said, even though it was not. Her mind was turning for some sort of a plan. Her friends were here, so she couldn’t call them. Perhaps one of the others could take her home, or she could get a cab. But she needed to get home. Clara did not want to stay in this house that smelt like booze and sweat any longer: she wanted to go home. Clara treasured that time at night that was all her own. Those hours before she went to sleep were her own and not be shared by anyone else. A feeling like panic seized her: she needed to go home.

That was when the odd thing happened. Clara unlocked her phone and found it open to Christopher’s contact. She did not remember opening that before. Perhaps she had drunk more than she meant to. Maybe she had meant to text him. God, had she texted him? Clara meant to look but found herself staring at his contact. Maybe he was awake. She thought he’d be awake. He was like her, she thought, a night bird. A quiet night bird like her as well. He was waiting for her to call him. Clara needed to call him.

Julie hiccupped again, “What?”

Clara breathed, “Nothing. I’m gonna get a ride home, okay? Be safe tonight.”

“M’kay,” Julie agreed as she left Clara alone in the kitchen.

That was when Clara did the stupid thing.  
 **OOO**  
She stood in the front lawn of the house and looked so much like her old self that his heart seized in his chest. This had been an addition to the plan, he supposed, but it tugged at his chest like none other to see her looking so like she had before. Clara gave a small wave when she noticed his care, looking absolutely mortified that he was picking her up. _Don’t be frightened,_ he pleaded but knew she could not hear. She looked so terribly beautiful.

Christopher parked the car and stepped out, walking to the passenger side and opening her door for her. She blinked, obviously surprised by this, but said a quick thank you and ducked into her seat. Some strange pleasure came over him that she was alone with him again. Even if she did not know yet… Christopher shut off the thought as shut her door. Such thoughts would only make the feelings inside of him worse and they were already rising at an inordinate speed. He retook his spot at the driver’s seat.

“Thank you,” Clara said the moment he put the car into drive. “I know it’s late and this is really nice of you. I’ll give you money for gas. Or buy you some Starbucks or something.”

“It’s not a problem,” he tried to speak as coolly as possible. She seemed on edge, which he understood. Clara was always so on edge around him. A side effect of everything, yet he wished she’d be more relaxed. Christopher needed her trust. Clara need not be frightened near him. As they drove, he wished to take her hand in his but knew such a thing would be bizarre to her. She did not remember. Clara stared out the window and she did not remember. After several minutes of silence, she finally spoke again.

“I’m sorry I called you.” Her fingers fiddle with the lace sleeve of her shirt. “I should’ve just gotten an Uber or something.” Her eyes darted to the dashboard. “It’s one thirty in the morning. I’m so sorry. I-“

“It’s really not a problem, Clara,” Christopher replied with a light laugh. That seemed to soothe her, for she exhaled and leaned back against the seat. He wanted to turn and to look at her but knew such a thing might frighten. He should just focus on the road and forget that they were alone together. He should just forget everything. But, God, he could not forget anything. Every moment sent his skin on fire. 

They were alone again. She had seemed so disgusted by him two nights ago. Clara must know. Deep down inside of her soul, she remembered what he was. His darkness she remembered at least. She remembered that monster she saw with Julie. The monster that lived inside of him and was now burning to come out again. Such terrible visions played in his mind as he drove upon the dark roads. Alone with Clara. He could have her. Have her tangibly and not just in her dreams. In her dreams she never was fearful of him. Ever since he came to her, he visited her every night in her dreams. She’d beg him to stay or to take her away. Every time it was harder to say no to her.

But if his plan worked, then perhaps he’d have more time with her. Time for her to remember, perhaps. Maybe then time for them to be together again. Even if she didn’t remember, they could still be together. She was attracted to him, he knew, yet horrifically frightened of him as well. He could feel her heart pounding and it was pounding to drive him absolutely mad. Yes, yes maybe tonight she could be his again regardless. Short time with her and kisses in the night were no longer sating him, not when she was so near his grasp.

The monster was forming deep in his chest. A monster he had lived with for a thousand years. _Take her,_ the voice hissed. He recalled his time with Mina from years ago. She had given him her blood, her bed, her body. All of her soul was his and all of his soul was hers. She saw the monster within him and at first she was frightened. Mina had been terrified of him until she gave into her passion. Tonight, again, such a thing might happen. _She is yours. Do not waste time._ Christopher did not intend to. If his plan fell into alignment, no time would be wasted.

“The party was kind of stupid,” Clara spoke, thankfully saving him from his not so savory thoughts. “I mean, it was fine.” She sighed, “I guess I just still don’t like them very much.”

“Some are better than others,” he said plainly. He was going to ask if all of her friends were staying the night, but that sort of made it sound like he was aiming to murder her so he let the question float away. “Are you feeling all right?”

“I didn’t have that much to drink,” Clara answered immediately. “I just thought I shouldn’t drive. Mostly that was because I almost had another attack. I’m fine. I’ve got medicine in my bag anyway.” She paused and another panic seemed to seize her. Though they were on the highway now, he glanced over to she was all right and she seemed certainly not all right.

Christopher spoke, “Clara?” She made a noise that sounded like she were in deep pain. He wondered for a moment if she was.

“I left my bag in Julie’s car.” Clara’s head fell back upon the headrest. “My keys are in there too. Damn it.”

“We’ll go back and get it,” he immediately offered. Yet in his chest a new feeling of anticipation was swelling. It was working. The plan he’d set was working. Christopher had nearly believed the friend had not done her part in it, yet it seemed she’d played the role beautifully. If Clara said her lines right then everything would be perfect. Everything would be as he wanted.

Clara huffed, “I can call the landlady…she’s out of town til Tuesday. Shit.” He could hear her heart pounding to burst open her chest. “God, I hate to have you drive me back. We’re already nearly there. But I can call Julie I guess… But she said her phone was dead. Fuck.”

“You’re welcome to a guest room in my suite.”

There. He’d said it. His plan. His risky plan. _Damn the risk. She is yours. Your love, your Mina, your soulmate._ You should feel no qualms in wanting her.

He continued, “There’s four of them and no one uses them. You’re more than welcome to one if you think getting your keys back will be too much of a hassle.” Clara didn’t say a word. “If you’re comfortable with that, of course.”

“Um…” Clara stammered. Trust me, he tried to will his way into her mind. Such things worked better when the victim was asleep, but sometimes the cover of night helped as well. A close kinship helped too. _Trust me, my darling._ God, he wanted to touch her. To kiss her. To have her. The monster was rearing up in his chest again and he tried to curse it away. He knew it would not stay away for long at all.

“Sure,” she agreed and the monster growled in triumph. “If that’s okay?”

“Of course,” Christopher agreed coolly. Alone with her. Finally alone with her. 

Perhaps he could get her to remember.


	5. Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After picking Clara up from the party, Christopher brings Clara home in the hopes that she'll remember him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how it says "This work may contain adult content. Do you wish to proceed?"  
> Here's the adult content its talking about.

_A girl who looked like Julie giggled while clutching the book to her chest. The red haired girl had thought it funny to peruse through her friend's bookshelves and found the few books of which Mina hoped no one would ever find. 'de Sade is a classic author,' Mina had rationalized, trying to take the book from her friend's clutches but Lucy…yes, Clara remembered the name…would not relent. She found some of Mina's other unsavory novels as well._

_"Well, I see how you get your kicks without having any men around, Miss Murray."_

_Mina flushed, "Do shut up." Again she tried to grasp the book and again Lucy moved it from Mina's reach. Mina did not like Lucy looking at these things. These were her secret books. Some of them were classics and others were just passing fancies. Gothic romances and penny novels about monsters and innocent young women. Mina did fancy herself to be a modern woman and always slightly despised the women in these novels. But, God, she could not deny her interest in them. Faraway places with sweeping castles and handsome, brooding men (who may or may not have questionable morals)._

_And these women, vapid as they were, were unafraid in a way that Mina was fearfully frightened. Men did not scare them, nor did intimacy, or the touch of another. They bedded these monsters and men without fear of morality or shame. They gave themselves to the flesh and felt no guilt in it. Perhaps it was not really an admirable quality, but, God, did Mina admire them. She was so ridiculously frightened by such things._

_They were fantasy; mere fantasy were these novels. And now Lucy was mocking her for them._

_Lucy read from a page, "'The Duke moved his hand near Maria's supple bosom and she cried out in ecstasy-'"_

_"That's quite enough." Finally, Mina was successful in removing the book from her friend's clutches. "I'm sure there are better things to mock me about then my book collection."_

_"Mocking?" Lucy gaped with a mischievous wink in her eye. "Absolutely not! I thought you sat around reading nothing but Milton and Shakespeare. I absolutely adore the fact that you read bawdy novels." Her hand laid upon a few others she had pulled off the shelf in her early escapades. "Though your Sadism ones are the most surprising. Who knew you were so depraved?"_

_Mina narrowed her eyes, "They're classics, thank you." Lucy giggled endlessly at her friend's flushing face._

_Mina scooted closer to the shelf, re-shelfing the ones Lucy had pulled away. Mina's home was not large, but she did love her library. For it was hers now, mostly. Her father kept his own in his study and her mother had never owned many books whilst she was alive. These were all Mina's her little collection. Her friends stacked in rows upon rows._

_Lucy scoffed, "Classics in which corporeal punishments are used as an aphrodisiac." She chuckled again, "Men whipping and spanking women and the women absolutely loving it! It's so terribly taboo."_

_Mina pursed her lips sourly and continued her shelfing. She hoped desperately that her friend could not see her flushing, for Mina would not hear the end of it if she showed any sort of feeling. Mina was the logical one. She was the cool and calm one. Mina didn't have much feelings about men or marriage or any of those things. At least no feelings she spoke aloud. Those feelings were for her own conscience and no one else's. Especially not Lucy's._

_These books, bawdy as they might be, kept her secrets. They told no one of her bizarre feelings and fantasies. Feelings and fantasies Mina certainly would never address nor ever experience. She had not any experience with men. Not romantically. Of course she had fancies, but it oft seemed no one ever fancied her back. That was all right. Mina would be an old maid if she was meant to be an old maid. She had herself and her books and everything would be fine._

_Her friend nudged her, "Unless of course you like that kind of thing, Mina dear."_

_"Again: do shut up."_

_"Oh: this one looks promising!" Lucy picked up a penny romance novel that Mina had bought at some very small bookseller years ago. Her friend flashed a toothy hiss. "Vampires. Very immoral, Miss Mina."_

_Mina spoke not a word as she took the book and slid it back into its spot upon the shelf._

_"Have you told your Count about your little collection?"_

_She rolled her eyes, "He's not my Count." Mina placed the last book and sat again with her friend, her back leaning against the shelf. The Count was another thing Mina did not like discussing with Lucy. Lucy insisted the man was in love with Mina, while Mina fervently contradicted the statement. He was not in love with her. He was so much older than her, so much worldlier. How could he love her? The idea was nonsense._

_"But, of course, I told him about my books." Mina spoke in an overtly dramatic tone. "And now we make passionate love every day. In fact, I'm going over there today to make love to him again. Whips, demons, and vampires all."_

_Lucy laughed, "Right-o, Mina Murray!" She nudged her, "And I'm just teasing. You do know I'm just teasing?"_

_Mina nodded and Lucy helped her friend put all the books back. They laughed and took tea and did not mention the books or Count Dracula again. Which was good, but also bad, for Mina so wanted to talk to someone about Count Dracula. She was having such strange feelings about him. Maybe he was older than her, but he was so handsome. Handsome and kind he was and never treated her like she was anything less than him._

_Yet there was something about him… Something dark and strange lived beneath his eyes. She sometimes saw it when he looked at her in that very peculiar way. It was a little bit sinister this look. It excited her greatly every time she saw it._

_That was the unnerving part._

**OOO**

_What the Hell am I doing?_

Clara's cheeks felt hotter than an oven as she pressed her palms against them. It felt like she was either going to vomit or scream and she couldn't decide which one she inclining more towards. Vomiting, probably. Her stomach churned so much that she wouldn't be surprised if she did. That also might just be because she was hungry. And he was going to make her food, so that was nice. But how could she eat when her stomach was doing cartwheels?

How long had she been standing in this room like an idiot? At least ten minutes. She had not even sat down. The bed was too beautiful to sit upon. And for some reason these strange visions came into her head when she thought about the bed. Visions of Christopher touching her and kissing her and…

Her reflection in the guest room mirror looked like a ghost. She looked so stupid. Why had she gone to the party anyway? She hated parties. Why had she agreed to stay here? She should've gone back for the keys. It had seemed such a hassle to go back for the keys and he was being so kind and… Clara groaned, finally taking a seat upon the bed. _I am insane. I'm definitely insane. This is how girls get murdered. Or worse. I'm an idiot. A stupid idiot._

_Christopher isn't going to hurt you. Calm down. You're not drunk and you're not an idiot. If he does anything untoward, you can stop him. Breathe._

Clara had not been in his apartment since the strange day with the coffee and the paper cut. Something was very peculiar about Christopher, but she could not figure out what. Hope he's not going to fucking murder me, Clara thought cynically. Of course there was a chance he might murder her. She didn't know him at all. _I know him._

_Breathe,_ Clara instructed herself. She forgot why she'd come into the bedroom in the first place. Pajamas. He said there should be pajamas in the drawer if she wanted to change. She didn't have to change, of course, but her clothes were uncomfortable and smelt like booze. But again, he said she didn't have to change. ''Whatever makes you comfortable,' he'd said. 'I'll make some food, if you'd like something to eat.' And Clara had agreed because she was so freaking hungry. She hadn't eaten at all at the party.

What if he poisons it? He could poison it. Honestly, Clara was far too hungry to care about poison.

_Christopher isn't trying to kill you._

_He has me alone. He has me alone and is giving me food and this is all extremely suspicious._

_But I know him._

God, why should she trust him? There was no reason to trust him at all.

Like a robot she followed the simple movement and found pajamas just as he said she would. _You must calm down, you're acting like a child. You'll make yourself panic. Calm down._

A child, yes. Clara felt very much so like a child. She dressed herself slowly and laid her clothes atop the dresser. The pajamas were long sleeved and navy and seemed to be made of silk. She halfway expected them to be monogramed, but they were not. In the mirror, Clara thought she looked like someone. She couldn't remember who. A character in a movie she had not seen in a very long time.

She admired herself, for she suddenly felt very beautiful for whatever reason. Perhaps it was the color against her pale skin or her slightly disheveled hair. Clara looked like herself and yet looked like someone she wanted greatly to be. Again, she could not remember quite whom. Clara twirled absentmindedly, running her hands along her body. She had always liked her body. Clara was slender but not too boney. An old, classic look, Julie would say. Clara thought she looked rather classic in her pajamas. His pajamas.

"You are insane." Clara kept gazing at her reflection and her mind wandered. A scene played in her mind: a scene from that movie with the actress she looked like. Clara gazed into the mirror and saw the movie play out right before her eyes.

_"I can't take this!" The girl who Clara looked like screamed in the face of the man who looked like Christopher. Oh, how very smug this man was. The other Clara despised him now with a flame that burned brighter than any sun. Into the man's cold hands Clara shoved a ring-a beautiful ring-that she did not want from him. Oh, damn that smug smile. Damn him. Damn him to Hell._

_"How did you think I could take this?" She screamed like a banshee and he made no reaction to her at all. "You hurt her! You wanted to hurt me!"_

_The other Christopher was so clam, "I do not want to hurt you."_

_"But you want to marry me?" She scoffed with a nasty sneer. "You're mad."_

_"I love you."_

_She pushed him back, "Stop saying that to me!"_

_Her face was contorted with her rage as the man just kept staring at her. He stared at her like she were the most perfect thing in the world and the girl despised it. She despised him. Especially that smirk beneath his eyes. That smirk that seemed to know the girl's true feelings. Those deep, deep feeling absolutely no one knew. Those dark parts of her Mina had become very, very good at hiding from sight. This man knew about them. She was not sure how, but he knew those dark secrets she had. How dare he look at her with that smirk? Like he knew about the books and her secrets and her feelings…_

_Mina hissed, "I'm not daft. You needn't pretend to love me because you think that might make me more willing to be killed by you. I will not be killed by you whether you lie to me or not." She turned and stormed away but his wrist caught her hand before she could go._

_She barked, "Give me back my arm this instant."_

_"I did not want to hurt you when I came to Whitby." His voice was coarse and he was far too close to her ear. "I was thirsting." His free arm clasped very suddenly and very strongly against her waist. She could feel the strength of his grasp through her corset. "I wanted you made as I am."_

_"Made as you are?" Mina repeated. Her arm was still in his grasp, she noted. His mouth was just inches from her neck. Maybe it was her heart of maybe it was just her body but a heat was rising from her that she could not ignore. Those stupid books Lucy had found rung in her mind as she felt that particular heat of a man standing near to you. Especially a man one was attracted to and, damn him, Mina was ineffably attracted to him. The man reached up her captured arm to his lips, kissing her palm greedily. God, her whole body heaved in wanting. Damn him. Damn him._

_"Blood of my blood and flesh of my flesh." The words seemed to float out of his mouth like silk and wrap themselves around her. "Made to be like me, my love. My immortal companion." His fingers brushed back her hair. "I have waited centuries for you."_

**OOO**

"Is pasta all right with you?"

Christopher didn't even need to turn around to know she had arrived. He could sense her, his Clara, before she'd even come down the hall. This must've startled her, for it took her a moment to respond.

"That sounds great," Clara spoke. "Thank you."

In the car she had mentioned being hungry. He'd had food left over from some damned business meeting so he heated that up for her. It helped him not to think about the fact he was alone with her or how that was driving him absolutely insane. A quick glance over his shoulder he gave to find her sitting at the table and still looking so absolutely beautiful. So sweet and small she looked in those pajamas that were much too large for her small frame.

Clara spoke, "I'm feeling better. Julie still hasn't called, so I guess her phone is still dead. I doubt she thought to charge it." A pause. "I hope she's all right."

Christopher wondered if she knew. He wondered if Clara knew that it had been him that night. Somewhere in her mind he felt that she knew. That creature he had been was one she knew, he was sure. The way her eyes had set upon him had reached him even in that depraved form. Mina had been his lover even in that depraved form. Yes, his love, his soulmate, his wife, his everything. Christopher looked back over his shoulder at her and was hit with an arrow to the chest. _Remember me,_ he wanted to scream at the little thing. The young and beautiful thing… _Behave._

"I hope as well," he responded as his sense came back to him. "It's good she's not driving, at least."

She huffed, "I'm mad she drove at all if she was planning to drink."

His mind drifted as he set the pasta in a bowl. 'I've a plan,' Julie had said to him last night when they met in her bedroom. Her mind was his own now after having taken her blood. He had not wanted Julie, but supposed he could make good use of her now that he had her. So he'd come to her room the night after he'd fed and found her waiting near the window. Familiar relationships could be so taxing if one did not desire it. Not Julie he'd wanted but Clara, and Clara had not heard his call. He could not kill her. Not when she was so close to Clara.

Julie let him in with open arms and seemed to desire him as most familiars did.

"I do not want you," he'd hissed as she'd fallen into his arms. Christopher cast her aside, "You know who I want. Help me get her."

The party, the ride, the drinking, and the phone call had all been a part of the plan and they all had gone beautifully. Now Clara was here with him, alone with him, and maybe she would remember. Or maybe she would not remember and he'd take her anyway. _Behave._ He could hardly breathe with her this close to him. Why should it matter? Clara or Mina, she wanted him regardless. He knew she wanted him.

"Your food," he brought over her meal, silverware, and a glass of water. "And at least you did manage to get home safe." Christopher turned back to the kitchen. "Well, not home, but at least to Carfax."

"Yeah," Clara agreed. Her want to talk was won over by her want to eat. If he stood near her for any longer he was going to go entirely mad so he made for the kitchen again. The pot he'd used to boil the noodles could use cleaning, he supposed. Anything to distract from her now. Distract from the fact that they were alone and that she could be his. _She's trusting you. Do not betray her trust._ Christopher glanced again at her as he washed the dishes.

God, he could have her right there on the damned kitchen table.

_Behave,_ he hissed at himself for the hundredth time this night but it seemed the word meant less and less each time he thought it. Why behave? Why control himself? She was his. His Mina. His love. His everything. Years and years he'd waited for her and he'd be damned to wait much longer. Waiting had been their first sin. Christopher did not wish to repeat it.

But damn it... Damn it, she was so young. So young and so full of life and plans and could he just snuff them out? Yes, it was Mina. She was Mina and how he'd hungered for her, but could he take her life from her? Clara was smart. She was smart and so beautiful and no doubt had an excellent future. A woman like her would have everything. She'd get an excellent career and an excellent husband. Beautiful children and a beautiful life. Things were different now. Things were no longer the same even if she was. He felt this horrific guilt in the thought of taking her.

_Damn your guilt,_ hissed that familiar voice in his mind. She's yours. _She's always been yours and you will not let her go again. Take her now._ Christopher looked at her as she silently are her meal. Her life. Her life would be meaningless and mortal. Unfulfilling and sad for someone as remarkable as her. It has always been so. She would never be happy. _She knows who you are. She nearly remembers._

"Are you going to eat?" She asked in her soft voice. Christopher looked at her for a moment was filled with another wave of bloodlust.

He shook his head, "I'm fine. Have as much as you like."

God, she was so beautiful. He could not look at her for long without being overwhelmed by this heaving in his gut. Did she feel it? She had to feel it. At night in her dreams, he would visit her. Visit her and pleasure her and she always let him in. It was poisoning her mind, these visits, and poisoning his as well. He should not be using this power over her, but God, he could not stop. Not when she was so near to him. And they weren't real, these dreams, not really. Just a power, a glamour, a feeling. If done wrong it could drive the victim insane but Christopher never did it wrong. He'd never harm Clara.

In those dreams she gave herself to him willingly. She beg for him to stay or for him to take her away. _She wants you,_ whispered that voice. _Take her and leave. Take her away as she has begged you to. She wants adventure. She wants life and excitement and to leave her mundane existence behind. Take her._

"It's very good," Clara spoke again. "Did you make it? Or do you have a chef or something..."

"Take out from a restaurant, actually," he answered. Sit with her. Christopher crossed the kitchen and sat across from her at the table. This was no helping any of the things he was feeling. She looked at him for a moment before looking back down to her pasta. It was nearly gone.

"Well, it's good," Clara said as she took her final bite. "And I..."

Christopher kept his gaze upon her. Her skin glowed like a light against the navy of the pajamas. Her hair had fallen upon her shoulders, a sea of gold on her porcelain sand. How he wanted to brush her hair aside and press his fangs into her flesh and take her as his own and... _Damn it all._

"Thank you," Clara said once again. "This is so kind and...you didn't need to do this. And-"

"It's not a problem, Clara." His voice had slipped into a different tambour. A soothing tambour. The voice he used when he was in her dreams. Christopher hadn't even meant for it to happen, but suddenly his tone had changed with his wanting. There was alarm in her eyes at the shift.

"I..." She stammered, her clear eyes glossy. "I, um, wanted to apologize for being weird lately. Especially after the Julie sleepwalking thing. I was really rude to you that morning. I shouldn't have been."

He half smiled, "You weren't rude."

"I just really hate it," Clara spoke suddenly. "The panic disorder, I mean. It's just such a stupid problem to have. And…" He was gazing at her again and he saw a blush rise in her cheeks. "But it's my problem, not yours. I shouldn't have snapped." He watched as she sipped her water. Why did every movement fill him with wanting, with love? His heart was shattering just to be looking upon her. Her again: living and moving and his. Not yours.

Clara breathed, "So, er, did you ever reconnect with your family?"

"What?" He asked and whatever spell he'd been casting was dropped.

She blinked, "You said you'd come to Ohio to reconnect with family. This was when we first met. Sorry," Clara laughed and again she was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. "I should've prefaced that with something."

"No, it's fine," he began and an evil part of him wanted to speak the truth. I came for you. I came here because I wanted you. "To tell the truth: I lied. I haven't any family here. I just wanted to get away from work for a while."

"You lied?" Clara gaped and he thought her displeased with him. Another laugh caught her. "Why hide in Ohio? I'd've gone to the beach. Or Europe. Or a European beach."

"I wanted to go to the most depraved place I could think of."

"Ha, ha," Clara jested, finishing her final bite of food. He liked seeing her light and comfortable. It was helping him, as well, though she knew it not. It was distracting him from the throbbing growing in his canines and chest when he looked at her. He should not be so hungry: he'd fed two days ago. Yet it could not be sated. Lust, he had learned in his many years, could not be sated as easily as hunger.

She smiled, "Well, as long as you're here, my friends are still waiting for the Victoria Secret models party."

"Why would I host a party if you'd leave within the first two hours?"

Like a perturbed child, Clara pursed her lips. It made him smile to jest with her.

Clara spoke, "I can go downstairs and you all can party with the scantily clad women." He was going to say something about how a party wouldn't matter if she was not there, but her attention instead was caught by her empty dish. "I'll clean this up." When she stood, he was at her side in a moment. Probably far, far too quickly. Her beautiful blue eyes looked up at him and they were as large as globes. Too quickly. He'd come to her far too quickly.

"I can take your plate," he offered as he took the dish from her hand. She gripped it so tightly her knuckles turned white, though she eventually relented. He wanted to...he stroked her arm softly before taking the plate from her grasp. "It's not a problem."

Again, she studied him with that look she had so often had before. That look he'd seen again when she'd come to peruse his library. The look of a learned person, a scholarly person, when they are faced with something they cannot understand. Somewhere in her mind, Clara knew him. Like before when somewhere in her mind, Mina loved him. No doubt he'd been standing there far too long, staring at her far too long.

"Thanks," her voice was light as gossamer. With a step back she was further from him and his heart twinged at her distance. "I shouldn't keep you up. It's very late."

"I'm a night bird," he responded with words he had told her years before. "Useless by day."

"Always been a night owl myself," Clara responded lightly. "But I'm afraid I'm pretty tired tonight."

"Of course," Christopher tried to revert to a usual tone. A cool tone. I want her so badly I am burning in Hell with it. Turning, he walked towards the sink and set the dish inside. Distance should've helped him calm down, but it did not. God, he wanted her. He had not thought this through. In his gluttonous selfishness he had not thought this through. His face…His face was changing. His demeanor as well, no doubt. Soon Christopher would be closer to that thing she'd seen outside than himself. And she would be terrified. Absolutely terrified.

He spoke, "You're welcome to go to bed. Whatever you want to do."

"Think I'll sleep," Clara's tone was easy and sweet. "Goodnight, Christopher."

"Goodnight, Clara."

Clara retreated away from him in an instant and the monster inside of him flared with rage. She had been so near. So near and he'd frightened her. Again, like before, he had frightened her. But again, like before, perhaps he could win her. She knew him. She loved him. She was his and he intended to have her once again... Out, damn it- He hissed to the voice. He had been selfish in his plan. He had been grossly selfish in bringing her here. No wonder she was terrified of him: this was terrifying. He should not have been so forward, so direct. He had been reckless and stupid in his wanting. He could not be reckless and stupid with her

_Make her dream again. Make her soft and happy and yours._

_And not herself,_ he cursed himself as he heard the guest room door shut. Christopher shut his eyes and tried to call out to her mind. He found it as locked as her door. God, God he was going mad. Christopher could feel his form changing, he needed not a mirror to know that. A monster. A monster like Mina had seen him as two nights ago. When he'd been so thirsty he'd taken the friend in his gluttony. Mina had not heard him. Why had she not heard him? He had begged for her, but the friend had appeared in her stead. He'd taken her anyway, he could not be sated. Nearly he had taken Mina as well. She's been so frightened. Just like tonight. She was so frightened. Damn it. Damn it all.

Yes, he was changed now. Christopher felt it on his skin and in his chest. A monster coming into form. A monster of rage and hunger and lust and loneliness. He could hardly breathe from it. To the chair at the table he fell, gripping his disgusting face in his hands. More shadow and demon he was becoming than man. Everything was red. Everything was bright red and burning. _Go in and take her. She won't resist. Mina never resists you. Go and take her. Drink from her and lay with her as you want to do. You've waited for her for so long. She is yours._

_God,_ he grasped his hair in his fingers. He felt intangible. He was hardly real now with his wanting. A creature, not a man at all. And God he was dying in his want for her. _God cannot hear you,_ he thought viciously. _God hears not the thoughts of one so vile._ Vile…Christopher thought of all the vile things he wanted to do to Clara. They had done so very little before: their time had been so short. He wanted absolutely everything from her and he was in agony from it. Oh, he was far more beast than man.

_She'll be perfect. Pure and sweet will be her blood. Blood just for you. A virgin. You know she is a virgin. Take her._

"Christopher?"

He had not even heard her return. Damn her for returning. Christopher could not look at her. He could not breathe with her so near to him. She could not see his face else she run from him forever.

"Go back to bed, Clara."

His hands held his head away from her view. His back turned so she would not see him. She need not see him like this. She was already frightened. Already terrified of him was she and need not be more so.

"Are you all right? I got up to use the bathroom and saw you sitting here. You look sick. Do you need help?"

Her soft hand touched his shoulder and it felt like fire sprouted from where it lay. _Go back to bed, you naïve child._ That's what she was: a child. You'd taken her before and she was not much older than this. It did not matter she was young: everyone was young to him. God, she knew not what she was doing to him just by being here. He'd been so wrong in his plan, so very wrong. He could not control himself any more than he had before. It was worse than before. So much worse.

"Go to bed."

An order. Christopher said it as such and needed her to obey. For her own good she needed to obey him. Yet such tricks never really worked on Mina. He could never get them quite right on Mina. Her small hand kept on his shoulder like he had not frightened her. Like everything was fine.

"Please, go back to bed." Christopher pleaded one more time as her small hands reached for his. "And lock the door." He could hear her blood pounding beneath the thin layer of her skin. One bite and she would be his. It would be so easy as her lithe fingers brushed his face to just reach and have her. The beast inside of him screamed for her right now. He could see her body beneath those pajamas in his mind's eyes. Her beautiful body would be covered in his bright red marks. Everything was red. Everything was red and he was not human.

Clara breathed, "Let me see your face." He felt her move to the chair next to him as her hands loosened their grip.

"Clara-"

"Do I know you?"

_Yes,_ he wanted to scream to make her understand. _Don't be frightened. You know me._ Slowly, very slowly, Christopher uncovered his face for her.

Immediately, she gasped. He felt her heart pounding in his chest at the sight of him. _Do not be frightened of me._ He nearly expected her to run away from him but she stayed planted where was. Her eyes were filled in fear and curiosity and her hands moved back to his face. _Remember me,_ he pleaded. _Remember me. Me. You loved me. Don't you remember? Our nights together in back in England. We were meant to be for each other. My soulmate. My love. My Mina._ He kissed her thumb as it brushed along his lips. Her eyes continued the flitting study of his face. She knew. She nearly knew him, yet could not remember.

"Don't be frightened," he spoke. Christopher wondered if it even mattered. "I won't hurt you." That, perhaps, was a promise he could not keep. "I'd never hurt you."

"I know you."

"Yes," Christopher leaned nearer to this beautiful creature. This beautiful, warm, intoxicating creature just within his grasp. She was so very human, so full of life. Just the same as she had been all those years ago. His eyes flitted to her unscathed neck and he felt his canine's burn in time with the burning in his groin. "Yes, you know me."

"I can't remember," Clara's voice was made to break his heart. "I almost..." Her hands touched his face greedily and he wanted her. If she remembered or not, he still wanted her. It was not in his nature to be patient.

She blinked, "You look so strange."

"That happens," he responded calmly.

"Am I crazy?"

"No," Christopher took her beautiful face in his hand. He could not resist. No, no this was too strong to stop now. The monster inside of him would not stop. Christopher knew it well enough to know when it could be controlled and when it could not. "No, darling."

Clara came nearer, "You've called me that before, haven't you? I know you." Her fingers clutched the small hairs behind his neck and fire spread through his body. Mina, his Mina. Christopher could not contain himself. He could not do it any longer. She must've noticed something wrong for a queer light came in her eyes.

"Please, go back to bed," he said gruffly though every fiber of him screamed to have her stay. "Please."

"I know I know you," Her body was far too close to his. "And I want…" Before he could protest, Clara breached the space between them and place her lips upon his own. Now he was gone entirely. His mind and being were in the hands of Clara and the monster inside of him. There was no more control to be had, he was certain. Not when she kissed him like this, and she kissed him so well, could he control this monster for another moment. How he'd kept it tame in his nighttime visits to her, he was not sure.

Christopher lifted her from the chair and into his arms and she made no protest as he made for his bedroom. He was mad with lust, filled with lust, at this beautiful creature in his grasp. Everything was spiraling into sound and color and he cared not for at the center of it was her.

Onto his bed he placed her and Christopher could not wait another moment to have her. It was immoral and wrong and he should wait for to remember but he didn't care anymore. There was only wanting and there was only red and her beautiful skin and her perfect lips. Clara reached her fingers to his shirt buttons and pulled them apart rather this unfastening them. Sitting up from the bed, Clara pushed away his shirt and locked her arms around his neck in a passion filled kiss. His hands ran along the silk of the pajamas and he wanted them torn to shreds. Back to the bed he lowered her, his hands grasping the hem of the night shirt.

"Can I?" He asked, holding the silk in his fingers. Clara nodded hurriedly and he pulled the pajamas from her form. She hadn't a bra on, damn her, and his lips immediately went to her perfect, round breasts. Aloud Clara gasped and wrapped her fingers back in his hair. Up her body he traveled the kisses until he reached her collar bone and then her neck. Clara was moaning loudly as he sucked and nibbled against her skin, no doubt marking her already. He wanted her blood like nothing in the world. This disgusting and hunger filled lust was filling every bit of his body. He'd fill the room with it and burry himself in her crimson drink.

His hands touched her pillowy breasts until they traveled lowered and he felt her legs parting for him. Damn, he could not stop. Those nights in her room were nothing to this. This Clara was awake and aware and fully his and responding to him. Christopher slid his fingers beneath her pants rim and touched her over her underwear. So sweet were her breaths and sighs that he felt his fangs burning like hot tongs in his mouth. He needed her. He needed her.

Clara was extremely aroused, he could tell for certain now, and it filled him with more selfish pride to know he was doing this to her. Damn, she was still so beautiful. Perfect and willowy and absolutely handsome. He needed her. His chest was ripping open from needing her.

Clara grabbed his face in hands, gazing up at him with those perfect blue eyes. What was wrong? Something had upset her. Had he upset her? Christopher craned his neck and kissed her wrist, feeling her pulse pound beneath it. _She doesn't remember you. You cannot be with her if she doesn't remember you. She has no idea what she's doing. Get away from her, away from her now, if there's any thread of decency left in you at all._

Christopher pulled away immediately, kneeling back further on the bed from her.

"What?" Clara sat up and this look was far worse than the previous one. A look of concern was on her face to break his heart. "Is something wrong?" Her little hand reached to his face again and he felt his insides shattering.

He breathed, "You don't remember me, do you?"

"I almost do," Clara responded immediately. Her hands moved down his chest, bringing him closer to her. God, he could not stand it. How could anyone stand it? Christopher cupped her face in his hand, kissing her forehead, her cheek, her ear, her neck. "I remember…this. I just…I almost…I want to." Her voice was breaking and shattering with his soul. "Please," Clara moaned as he sucked upon her neck. Christopher let his fangs pierce through and brush upon her flesh. He could not control it any longer: his fangs pierced through her skin and her hot, red blood flowed out and past his lips.

Clara gasped but did not pull away from him. Instead, her hands pushed him nearer, grasping at him in a strange and desperate way. Christopher laid her back on the bed, the blood dripping onto the sheets but he did not care. His throat burned for more of her, but he pulled back after a moment and let the wound close shut. Her eyes gazed at him in awe and confusion, but Christopher leaned back down and licked the split blood off the rest of her body. It turned to kisses, moving up her skin and back to her lips. She continued to kiss him, her fingers wrapped in his hair.

"Do you remember?" He breathed into her ear.

"I remember that," Clara said in a dreamlike voice. Down his body her hands moved, pulling at the top of his pants. "I want you."

"Clara-"

"Please," she begged then stopped suddenly. Clara gasped loudly, sitting up against the head board. He wondered what on earth was wrong or what he'd done and reached for her but she pulled away.

He spoke, "Clara, what's wrong? Are you all right?"

She just stared at him, wide eyed and frightened.

"We needn't do anything. We needn't do anything you don't wish." He pulled his trousers back up and covered himself, yet she just kept staring at him with that same, concerned look.

She blinked, "I don't know what's happening."

"It's all right, darling. It's all right. I'm here."

Tell her, tell her. He wasn't meant to tell her. When Christopher had done what he did to get her back, he was instructed not to tell her. Mina had to uncover it herself. She would uncover it herself. He was certain. She had to. Christopher had done so much, he had done everything to have her back again. Now here she was, wide eyed and frightened but very much alive. He watched as her eyes moved to the bedsheet, staring at the bright red stains upon the pure white sheets. Again her eyes grew and she recoiled back in horror.

Clara gaped, "Oh my God." Her hands covered her body, forbidding him from it. "Oh my God."

"Clara-"

"What's happening?" She pleaded desperately. Christopher moved closer again and she recoiled. Terribly. Monster. He'd taken advantage of her. Disgusting creature he was, terrible thing. How could he have done that? There was no worse monster than he. Clara breathed, "S-sorry, I didn't mean to…" Her breathing grew entirely too rapid. "I know you. I know you, but I don't know you. And I just let you do…that and I don't know why. And now we're here in this bed and I feel like we've been here in this bed before but I don't remember when…"

"Shh," he spoke for tears had welled in her eyes. Christopher moved near to her again and this time she did not pull away. His thumb brushed her cheek, wiping away the tears that had fallen. He could make her forget. Clara could forget his grave mistake and both of them move away as though it had never happened. No, no. They were connected now. He'd taken her blood… A thought appeared. If she took his blood, they'd be bonded even further. A complete mental connection. Yes, yes, if Clara drank from him, perhaps she could remember.

Then she kissed him. Clara leaned to him and kissed him and he barely had a moment to respond. Then his Clara pulled back. His Clara pulled back and the tears made her eyes glisten brighter.

"I almost remember," Clara repeated. "I almost remember whenever you are close to me." His fingers ran down her side.

"It's all right," Christopher said as he touched her soft cheek. They were still wet with tears. His eyes drifted to her neck. Why had he done that? Idiot man. Disgusting monster. "I'm sorry I hurt you." The words broke him. "I'm so sorry."

"It didn't hurt," Clara said as her eyes met his. The words seemed to horrify her again. "You're a vampire?"

"Yes."

"That's insane."

"Yes." Clara breathed a single laugh at his word.

She swallowed, "And you...you know me? I'm not crazy."

"I know you." Christopher stroked her face again. "You're not crazy."

Her arms had fallen and she was not so closed anymore. He wanted... _Damn you,_ he cursed himself. The monster, the monster could not be sated. He could not be wanting her now. Not now when she was so upset and broken and ripping his heart to bits. Then Clara reached her hand to him, touching him softly and sweetly. Her palm he took in hand, placing a kiss upon it gently.

Clara blinked, "I can't..." Her breathes were long and full, moving her chest in and out methodically. "When did you know me?"

"A very long time ago," he replied as he trailed kisses on her arm. The magic she was causing was unprecedented and filling up his conscious again.

As he kissed her, it seemed her fear was fading back again. _You are selfish,_ hissed that voice in his mind. _You are evil._ He was, wasn't he? This girl, this Clara, existed solely because he willed her to. She existed because he'd sold his own soul to get her back. A bargain, a terrible bargain, but it mattered not. His life mattered not if she was not in it. Now here she was, she was back and she was with him and she was beautiful and perfect... Christopher pressed kisses on her slender neck and collar bone as she slid back upon the pillows. Her breaths were like melody into his ear. _Be mine,_ he whispered in his thoughts. _You're mine._

He wished he could tell her, but to tell her would ruin. There had been but that one stipulation. Mina had to remember on her own and make a decision then. And should she not choose him, he was ruined. Absolutely ruined. _She will choose me, as before. Mina will be mine._

**OOO**

This was insane. This was complete fucking madness. Clara kept telling herself that, but she couldn't deny the man lying shirtless on this bed with her who was kissing and sucking on her skin. She most certainly couldn't deny how fucking good it was making her feel either. Christopher had very obviously done this before and that was nice but it also made her feel like some clumsy idiot with the whole thing. Boys and relationships and kissing were all the types of things Clara had never fused with for fear of looking like an idiot. It was the one thing she knew absolutely nothing about.

But I know him, pleaded that voice inside of her. He had said as much, hadn't he? Yet Christopher was being rather cryptic about the whole thing. A vampire. What the bloody hell, a vampire? Clara had always loved vampires. Not in a cute little girl way, but in a kind of pathetic middle aged mom way. Expect when most girls swooned over the Edward Cullen good vampires, Clara always had a bit of a thing for the evil and nefarious ones. It was all a bit bizarre, but it seemed this was a bit bizarre as well.

If he was a vampire, then he was immortal. And if that was the case, the she supposed they did know each other at some time. Another life. Reincarnation. Clara had never really believed in that but she supposed she had not choice but to now. Or she could just assume he was crazy and she was also crazy and maybe that was the more logical route. But she did know him, God she knew him, and she could not deny what she felt in her soul.

His hands moved along her body like he knew it. Which he did if what he was saying was true and Clara knew it had to be true. His lips were by her hairline then on her mouth then down her body to her breasts. Christopher moved his hands to the hem of her pants and she let him slide them and her underwear off of her. No one has seen her naked before, Clara suddenly realized, and there was a particular fear that went along with such a realization. The fear faded quickly when he began touching her softly, brushing her and teasing her, kissing her all the while.

Those dreams, Clara remembered those strange dreams she was having and suddenly realized the touch in them she'd felt was his. Were they memories, those dreams? Those strange visions she'd been having were memories as well, she assumed. Clara could hardly remember the strange memories she'd had. There was a girl...a girl who looked like her. What was her name? She was beautiful. Old timey gowns in an old timey place. Clara's mind was brought out of her mind as Christopher's touches grew so much more intoxicating. She was going to... She was going to...

Clara pressed her lips on his fervently as she shook beneath his grasp. And still she wanted more, more of him. More of this man she knew but didn't. This man she remembered but didn't. And it didn't even matter now for she, Clara, wanted him regardless. God, he was so handsome. How could anyone be so handsome? He was looking at her like he was so in love with her. Did Clara love him? It felt like she loved him but how could she? She didn't know him. Though she did know him. It didn't matter. Clara's hands moved to his pants and undid the button.

Christopher hesitated, "Clara-"

"I want to be with you," she said, kissing him lips fervently.

And it seemed he gave up whatever inhibitions he had left and Clara did not brood upon another thought the remainder of the night.


	6. After

His arms were around her as they stood in her small bedroom. These arms were such a solace to her: these arms she'd wanted to be in for months. Yet still she could not help but be frightened. The words the men had said rung in her ears like banging on a tin roof. Dracula was dangerous, and she knew that. He was a monster, and she knew that. Mina had called him here to her room of her own will: she need not be so frightened of him. Why did her heart still pound now when he held her as she cried? Something in her skin was screaming.

"They took her away," Mina spoke in her small and broken tone. "They took Lucy away. They'll come for me next-"

"No one will take you away," The vampire spoke fiercely into her ear. A part of her wanted to shy away in revulsion but she instead clung harder to him to spite herself. "I have you. You're safe, Mina." His hands brushed her hair. "I love you."

Mina whimpered. His stupid words. 'I love you' he spoke over and over to her. _I love you,_ Mina repeated in her own mind as she burried her face into his chest. He smelt like dust and old books. I love you, she repeated and felt the fear fading as she said it. Perhaps that was what had scared her: the feeling, not the man. He'd said as much, but Mina had been not inclined to believe him then. She had not wanted him to be right. Mina realized that he had been all along.

After an even longer moment, he pulled her head back and looked down at her. No doubt she looked rather pathetic with swollen cheeks and wet eyelashes. Count Dracula seemed not to mind it. His fingers lifted her chin and he brought his lips onto hers. Suddenly Mina was filled with such fire that she couldn't bear it. Her hands wrapped around his chest, for she wanted him much closer. His hands she felt on her waist and in her hair and Mina finally understood what the men had meant when they said vampires were seductive. This man was powerfully seductive.

He stopped, "Come with me." Count Dracula took her hand in his and kissed it. "We'll go away. They will not find us."

"Where?" Mina asked softly. Look at him, she told herself. Why had she called to him? It was pathetic to have called to him. He was a monster. He was not even human and she had just let him kiss her. Like before she had let him kiss her. Such an idiot. Idiot little girl. Again his lips kissed her hand before pulling her closer.

"Anywhere," Vladimir Dracula offered.

Mina breathed, "They'd find us at Carfax."

"We'll go further," he responded immediately. "Paris or Berlin. We could go to Stockholm or Madrid." A pause, "Transylvania."

"Transylvania," Mina laughed, her hands feeling the soft fabric of his shirt. _I love him,_ she thought.

Well, you shouldn't. You are absolutely an idiot for thinking you do. Yet when his hand brushed back her hair, she loved him again. God, why had she called for him? Here she was wearing a goddmaned gossamer nightgown in her very own bedroom. The moon was shining on them like in those stupid penny romance novels and here she was, standing with a heaving breast, just like the idiot heroine. With her dark man standing in front of her wanting desperately to be her lover. She could've laughed if everything weren't so terrible. Everything was so terrible. Mina felt more tears drop, tears he instantly brushed away. _I despise this,_ Mina hissed to herself.

"Come with me, my love. Far away from here. They'll never find us."

_They'll find us,_ Mina wanted to say. _They always find us. Yet, how could she resist this? How could she resist him?_

There was a knock at the door and suddenly everything was moving very quickly.

"Mina, wake up!" Yelled the voice of Jonathan Harker. In the span of a second, Mina's mind fell to mush. There was no time to examine or weigh her options. Make a choice: go or stay. Make a choice now. Dracula's arms grew tighter around her, bringing her into his chest. Her hands were in balls, pushing up against him like the smallest of children.

There was a struggle with the door handle and more incessant knocking.

"Mina, he's coming for you! You must wake up!"

"Mina," Dracula hissed in her ear. He must've sensed her hesitation. Was it so obvious? Loving Dracula in the darkness and emptiness of her bedroom had not seemed a crime, but loving him publicly seemed a criminal offense. Especially if John saw. Dear sweet, stupid John would be heartbroken. Van Helsing, the old man, would be devastated.

_They locked Lucy in a madhouse, they'll send you to one as well. You're a compromised woman now, a sinner. Your being in his arms is crime enough for them._

Maybe she loved Dracula and maybe she didn't. Maybe he really did care for her or maybe he didn't. Now was not the time to brood upon such matters and woefully accept her plight. Immortality or death: those were her options now. She would die in an asylum or live forever by Count Dracula. Maybe she did not need to love him and he did not need to love her. She could live forever. She could escape.

A decision now: a decision of her own. Choose to be pawn or choose her own destiny. Romance need not be involved for Mina was not even certain that it was. A business arrangement, this would be. An alliance. Though, of course, he need not know that. Perhaps it would be all the better if he thought this for love.

"Take me," Mina breathed as she wrapped her arms around him. Count Dracula lifted her feet from the floor and in a moment they were gone.

**OOO**

"Clara?"

She opened her eyes, wondering where she was and whose voice was speaking to her. It all flooded back in a moment: Christopher, last night, vampire. It didn't make a whole lot of sense, but she remembered what had happened. She felt a pain between her legs and on her neck as well as though to confirm the whole thing. Now she looked and saw the man in question standing above her with what looked like a cellphone in hand.

"I didn't want to wake you," he said with a small smile. "Your friend has been calling your phone repeatedly. I think she's quite worried."

"Thanks," Clara blinked. As she sat up from the far too comfortable sheets, she realized she was topless, which was a strange thing to realize. She pulled the sheet around her though she wasn't quite sure why. Clara put the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

"Clara, where the hell are you?"

Clara focused her breathing as she felt Christopher's eyes dart to her and then away. She felt a little stupid covering herself with the sheet for it wasn't like he hadn't seen her. Still, Clara was not the type of girl to just sit around nude, she supposed. She was also not the type of girl to spend the night with a man she hardly knew, yet she'd done that as well.

"I got a ride from Christopher last night," she spoke calmly to her friend. "He took me home. I tried to call you, but your phone died." She huffed, "I texted you."

"Yeah, but where are you now?" Julie insisted and Clara felt her blood run cold. "I'm home and you're not here. Your car's here. Where are you?"

"Oh," Clara started, feeling her heart pound in her chest. Christopher left the bedroom, thank God, for he was only adding to her mortification. And she figured she could come up with a lie, but knowing Julie she'd figure everything out anyway. "I stayed the night at Christopher's."

"What?" Julie breathed and Clara could hear the wheels turning in her friend's head. "Oh my God! Wait...wait..." It sounded like Julie was walking. "Stayed the night or _stayed the night."_

"Um..." Clara hesitated, feeling her face flush. Which was stupid, because there wasn't anything to be ashamed of. "The latter."

"CLARA OH MY GOD."

"Please stop screaming."

"THIS IS THE GREATEST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED."

"Still screaming."

"YOU HAD SEX WITH SEXY MILLIONAIRE GUY AND I AM AT PEACE. MY SOUL IS FREE NOW. BLESS."

"I'm going to hang up now," Clara deadpanned, but couldn't hide a small laugh. It was strange, wasn't it? It was so incredibly out of character for Clara. Like someone else had taken over her body. The whole thing was real fucking weird, but Clara wasn't even thinking of that. She was thinking of just the normal part of it. The part where Christopher had kissed her and touched her and it had felt so good...

Julie squeaked, "Yeah, sorry. Go back to your sexy, sexy man. I'll be down here and you have to tell me literally everything when you get back."

"Okay," Clara muttered.

"Everything, Clara Porter. I wanna know size, shape-"

"Goodbye, Julie," Clara clicked the phone off and sat it on the nightstand. Now she was alone in this room and Clara realized she hadn't even payed any attention to it the night before. It was old looking, like the rest of the place, with more bookshelves and a large dresser. There was a door to a bathroom, probably, and Clara realized she needed to use it. Her eyes then moved to another door, a closet she guessed, and then she saw the entry way. She tossed her feet over the side, taking her pajamas from the ground and sliding them back on. Her eyes met the red splotches on the sheets, remembering what had happened with a strange warm feeling. A vampire. That was absolutely insane.

But thinking about it all made her head spin and her stomach churn so Clara elected to not think of it for the moment. Off to the bathroom she went, shutting the door to the room and turning on the light. Of course the bathroom was rustic and perfect because damn him for being so perfect. There was a claw foot tub. What type of person has a claw foot tub? She used the restroom then her own reflection caught her attention in the mirror. There was a bright purple mark upon her neck. It didn't look like a bite though, more like a hickey, but it was still there. She undid the pajama button and saw more marks down her collar bone and on her breasts. Less intense than the other one but still very much there. _Julie is going to have a damn field day._

Clara left the bedroom, walking down the hall to sounds in the kitchen. There was something absolutely mortifying about seeing him again. She didn't know why it was slightly terrifying, but she felt the panic regardless. What they had done in darkness and secret was one thing, but it all seemed more real in the daylight. She could not even remember this life she must've had with him long ago. Clara could not remember anything.

"Good morning," he said without even turning around. He'd done that last night as well so she assumed maybe that was some power he had. Vampires had powers, right? _I guess it depends on which lore we're going by...Oh my God, Clara, stop being so fucking weird._

"Good morning," Clara responded walking up to where he was. He was making breakfast. Damn him and all his cuteness, Clara said as she looked at the pancakes he'd made. "You didn't have to make me food again."

"Nonsense," he said, setting another pancake onto the plate. He'd made two plates, so she guessed vampires did eat. Which was cool, but kind of weird. Like all of this and everything. Clara took a plate and went to the table, sitting down and feeling her stomach rumble. The pancakes were delicious, because of course they were, and then he also brought over coffee and Clara was 900% in love with him.

Even if she couldn't remember him and trying to remember him filled her with dread.

"Julie just was wondering where I was," Clara said, taking another bite of her food. "Making sure I wasn't dead and all that." Her hair was falling into her food so she brushed it back and over her shoulder. Which, of course, showed where that mark was and she felt Christopher look at it for a long moment before looking back to his food.

"Why did you hurt her?" Clara asked suddenly. It was almost like she was possessed: she couldn't quite understand why she asked it until suddenly she did. That monster from two nights ago: the monster had been him. It seemed she'd known that somewhere in her mind. It seemed it hadn't shocked her all that much either. Clara was well acquainted with that monster. She had the oddest though she'd shared a bed with it.

Christopher cleared his throat, "Julie, you mean?"

"Yes," Clara took her coffee mug and sipped from it. These words coming from her were strange, but it seemed she could not stop them.

"I was hungry." He responded in a strange voice. "I called to you. You did not come."

"This happened before, didn't it?"

He nodded.

"Before. The many years ago?"

"Many years ago," he repeated with that forlorn look her could not name. Christopher was looking for whatever woman Clara had been before even though Clara could not remember her. She wished she could. God, she wished she could.

The silence hung in the air as Clara took a few more sips of coffee. What were you meant to say on the morning after? It always looked so easy in movies. They always woke up in bed together and stared into each other's eyes before parting ways. That had not happened, but the breakfast was nice. It was nice, but everything was wrong. Everything was weird. She knew things, but she didn't know things. Clara remembered, but she didn't remember. It was all rather…concerning.

She blinked, "I guess I should head back to my apartment soon."

"Stay," Christopher pleaded as his hand reached for her cheek. He touched her and again his eyes looked for whoever she had been before. "Stay here with me."

"Can't you tell me?" Clara pleaded suddenly. "Can't you tell me who I was before?"

"I can't," Christopher responded immediately and she felt her heart shattering. "I can't, but you'll remember. You will."

"All right," Clara replied softly and his hand left her face. She'd eaten all her pancakes and nearly drunk all her coffee as well. "Why can't you tell me?" Christopher said nothing. "You can't tell me why you can't tell me?" His hand dropped from her cheek. For a moment, it looked like he wanted to take her hand, but instead he brought his arm back to his side.

He breathed, "It's…complicated, Clara. It's law."

"Law?" She asked. Whose law? Clara wanted to inquire but knew she would receive no answer. "Fine, whatever. But I should…" Her pulse was quickening. No, no not now. Clara directed all thoughts to her breathing. You're fine. It's fine. You're safe. Nothing is wrong. "I should go, Christopher. I really should. I…I don't usually do this sort of thing." Her eyes flitted to his. "Uh, ever. So I, uh…" Clara took deep breaths and tried to focus on other things, menial things. She lifted up her dirty plate and empty mug and took them to the sink before Christopher could say a word about it. He was staring at her, she could feel it. From behind she heard his chair move out and felt him move closer.

"No," Clara put her arm out in front of her. He looked at her with sadness and that made her feel even worse. "No, I, uh, I'm sorry. I just don't understand. I mean, I do understand, but not really." Christopher moved nearer again and Clara stepped back. "Please don't. I'm sorry I'm being so weird. I've never before done…I mean…Hell, I never even kissed anyone until last night so… I don't know why I did that." Clara moved forwards this time, taking his face in her hands. Again his eyes stared at her and desperately wanted her to remember. _You and me both,_ she mused to herself. "I don't know what to do."

**OOO**

"Shh," he held her in his arms and felt the fear running in her veins. _Don't be scared of me. Please don't be scared of me._ Yet it still pulsed through her to spite him. You should have stopped. You are vile, disgusting, why did you do that? His hands brushed over her small frame and he couldn't shut off the demons in his mind. He should've felt guiltier than he did. You are horrific. Christopher wanted her again. As she stood there in his arms, he wanted her again. _Stay with me,_ he wished to say. _I've waited so long for you, Clara. You can't believe how long I've waited._

_You can't believe the lengths I went to to have you here._

"I want to stay," Clara spoke after a long moment. "But, um, I don't know if I should."

"Stay," he said softly as he brushed her hair.

"I'm not remembering," Clara's voice was cold and coarse. "I want to, but I'm not. I'm sorry." With a step she was out of his arms. "I need to get dressed and...I have papers to do so I'll just..."

"I'm sorry," Christopher said abruptly. "For last night. I'm sorry."

Clara hesitated, "Okay." Upset. Collapsing. Again he had hurt her because that's all he could do. She looked so young as she stood in front of him. Why had he done this? What type of monster was he? Christopher came near her, reached for her hand and what felt like lightening burst through him. Clara screamed, taking her hand back and falling away three paces. What was that? That had never happened before. Something was wrong terribly wrong and Clara stumbled away from him again.

"Clara?"

Her eyes flitted to him suddenly, a look mingled with dread and fear set in them. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

"Dracula. That was your name, yes?"

He could hardly breathe, "Clar-"

"Don't talk, just nod," Clara bit abruptly. Mina, there she was. Just at the surface but Christopher could see her. Almost. She was remembering, she was understanding. It was working. It was not all for naught: it was working. Christopher nodded. He watched as her shoulder slid down but her eyes stayed just as focused. A slight twitch in her face caught his eye.

Mina rubbed he lips, "Okay. Okay." She was breathing, breathing deeply, and he wondered if she was having an attack again. "Okay. And my name was Mina Murray, I gather. That's what Renfield keeps calling me. Was there a Renfield before?"

He nodded again.

"For both?"

Another nod.

"Okay." He watched as she played with her fingers, fiddling with her joints and her nails. "And the long time ago was, like, Victorian. Late 1800s. Corsets and bustles and...nightgowns." The last one sounded almost like a smirk. Another nod. "Good. Okay." She was claiming down, he could see it. He watched as she relaxed. "It's like...it's like remembering a dream I had when I was five years old."

She cocked her head to the side, a forlorn look coming over her.

"There were others, weren't there? There was a girl that looked almost like Julie. And...and an old man. And a boy my age who was..." She looked at him again. "How did I die?"

He didn't speak.

"You can't answer, of course," she said with a sigh. "Did you kill me?"

"No," he spoke aloud. "No, Mina."

She spoke, "Okay, good. Feeling less crazy." The smallest of smiles came over her face, a smile she instantly dropped. Damn, he could not stand it anymore. Dracula moved near to her again and this time she did not look up in fear. Her hand went to his face suddenly and she brushed her thumb over his lips. His fangs protruded and he saw her eyes shift in seeing them. Mina laughed lightly, "That's so weird."

He kissed her palm and her wrist until eventually she was in his arms again and he kissed her lips. _My Mina. My love._ He wanted her to stay. He needed her to stay. Dracula put a hand upon her hips and drew her. Part of him expected her to pull away, but instead she wrapped her fingers in his hair. Perhaps he could lead her back to the bedroom and she'd stay with him. She had liked last night, he was certain, but it was then he realize that he hadn't even asked.

"Last night," he began softly. "Did you like that?"

"What part?" Mina mused lightly. "I liked all of it." Saying that made her flush and seeing her flush made him want her again. Christopher brushed fallen tendrils of hair from her face and moved to her lips, yet she stopped him with her finger. "Wait, I have to go."

He breathed, "Why?"

"I…" Clara began, letting her hand fall to his chest. Something twitched in her hand, like she wanted to hold him but then thought better of it. "I don't know. I can't just stay here. And I need to see Julie…"

"Come back after," Christopher pleaded, kissing her forehead. "We'll watch a movie. Or go get dinner." Her hair was fine and slightly matted as he brushed it away. Vision of the previous night swam in his mind as he touched her again. He wanted her again, did she want him? They were so close. They were so near to how things had been before.

Clara half smiled, "All right." And he kissed her again. He so loved being able to kiss her again. _I sold my soul to have you,_ he thought to no one but himself. It was worth it. It was worth it all to be able to kiss her again. She told him she needed to change and Clara left him alone in the kitchen. _Stay here,_ he wanted to beg. _Please stay here._

**OOO**

She woke up next to him and felt a great throbbing between her legs. Of course, Mina had expected this would happen. She'd known he desired her and damn she had desired him as well. She just hadn't...hadn't anticipated that. You love him, hissed that vicious voice in her mind. Mina moved her fingers to the fang marks on her neck. She'd let him do that. Her eyes looked down to the puncture holes upon her wrists. Mina had let him do that as well. Completely in his power she had been and completely and utterly aroused by it she had been as well. Mina had said that she loved him and he'd said the same. Was it true? Did she love him? Did he love her? _You love him._

The words had been spoken in passion. Confessing her love in the dark cover of the night had not seemed as immoral as it did now in the bright light of the sun. Mina looked down to the sheets, blood stained sheets, and the bloodied shift upon the floor. _Bloodied and ripped shift, mind you,_ she thought to herself. He'd torn if off her in his passion. He'd hardly been human in his passion. Then again so had she. Mina hadn't cared for light or morality or cleanliness as he was pleasuring her.

Pleasuring her. God, how pleasurable it had been. Mina had known vampires to be seducers and full of immoral virtues and what sweet immoral virtues he had been full of. Confessing her love had only made it greater, more tangible. It had only increased the pleasure he'd put upon her. She was still in control, wasn't she? Yes, with her words she had controlled every bit of him. Soon, she would be free and immortal. _And his,_ hissed that voice. _You'll always be his. You love him._ Mina told the voice to shut up. It didn't matter. It didn't matter what she felt about him. It shouldn't matter.

It had been good, what they'd done, but her feelings need not matter. His loving her would be ridiculous. She was just another trophy to him: another creature. Mina would get what she wanted and that's all that mattered. Nothing else mattered.

"Mina?" Vladimir's voice was soft from behind her. She felt him sit up, leaning and placing a kiss on her shoulder. "Why are you awake, my darling?"

"I'm fine," She spoke softly as his long fingers gently brushed her skin. It made her think of the hours before and she wasn't sure if she wanted to think of the hours before. "Couldn't sleep."

"We don't have to sleep," he said as he placed kisses on her neck. Mina laughed half-heartedly as everything inside her felt like it was being bundled into fistfuls. I love you, Mina repeated and hated herself for it. She shouldn't love him. Loving him meant she was weak and she couldn't be weak. She couldn't be like this women she'd read about, kept enslaved to a vampire and living in torment. _He said he loved me._

_What he said doesn't matter._

_I think he's being truthful._

He stopped, "Something's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," Mina responded in the most unconvincing voice that anyone had ever heard. Well, it was his fault. The last thing to ask a person who was trying to be ambivalent was if they were all right. If they cared after all. I don't care, Mina told herself but it was a lie. _You care. You care so much it makes you sick._ Vladimir rested his hand on hers so softly it made her feel ill.

"I'm sorry," she blubbered and she didn't know why.

He brushed her hair, "Hush. There's nothing to be sorry for."

"No, no there is," Mina said and felt her secret pouring out of her before she could stop it. "I had lied. I had lied before. I went with you because...because I don't know. I was scared. I was scared and didn't want John to find me and... I didn't believe you either."

He didn't understand. Of course he didn't understand, she was making no sense.

Mina breathed, "You said you loved me but I didn't believe you. You seemed like a better option though and I was scared. Now I..."

"You do love me?"

"Yes."

She felt his hand travel up her side and turn her face towards him. Damn him for being so handsome and damn him for looking at her like that. Vladimir pulled back her hair as he leaned and pressed a soft kiss upon her lips. Her arm could not reach far with his around her, but she rested it on his and felt warmth spread all through her.

"I love you," he said and kissed her again. "Do you believe me?"

Mina nodded, the kisses growing stronger, and they both fell back onto the bed.


	7. Questions

Mina awoke to strange, floating kisses on her skin and what felt like fingers trailing along her spine. In that place between dreaming and awake, Mina could do little to move or speak as this strange being of air and shadow touched her so painfully gently. It moved along her like the finest silk as she felt lips brush her breasts, her stomach, her neck. Fingers moved up the sides of her nightdress and slowly removed it from her form. Whatever this was, it was seductive, and very, very powerful.

"Vladimir?" She asked when she was able to speak again. 

"It's me, dear one.” His voice purred against her ear and yet he still seemed intangible. He still seemed unreal and dreamlike though she could put her arms around him. Something was...something was strange this time as he touched her. It felt like he was everywhere though she knew the thought was ridiculous. He could not be everywhere. She felt him move against her like some animal and his arms spreads hers to the side, holding them there with some force. Kisses he placed all along her as she breathed softly beneath him. Mina realized she had not opened her eyes and moved to do so.

"Don't look," he said instantly and then kissed near her temples. "I'm afraid I don't look very handsome tonight, Mina."

"What's wrong?" Mina inquired as some power came over her and made her absolutely unable to move for its tingling. Whatever this was, it felt far more pleasurable than it did terrifying. The way he was moving around her felt...felt very unhuman. It was a good feeling, though. A very good feeling. 

"It happens," he kissed her, "at night," another kiss, "that my form changes to one less than human." 

"It didn't happen before..." The words petered out as fingers slid inside of her. God, when they'd told her about the things vampires could do, she thought them hideous and immoral. This was...this was certainly not hideous. She did not feel immoral to have him touch and kiss her and move around her like... Well, something not entirely human. Maybe they were right about that part. Maybe he was a demon. Mina didn't really care. For if were a demon, perhaps Mina had been wrong about demons all along.

"And that took a lot of focus," he countered, kissing her lips again. "The night forces me to be what I am, unless I glamour those around me."

"You were glamouring me?" Mina laughed for the brushing along her skin had grown a little ticklish. She wanted to look at him. Mina did not care what he would look like as she wrapped her arms tightly around his strange and shadowy form. His back felt bizarre and rough with ridges. "I want to see you."

"Mina-"

She opened her eyes before he could say another word and in front of her was a creature she had seen before. That dark and mysterious thing that she'd seen in the woods with Lucy. His skin looked covered in shadows and stretched too tightly on his body. There was something strange and alluring about him, yet terrifying all the same. Mina sat up, gazing at him while he studied her with his intense red eyes. They were so bright: they seemed like beacons in his face. Hypnotic they were and Mina found herself transfixed by their spell. Her hands moved along him, his face his chest. His back, where she had felt ridges, was lined with strange scales. Even his hands were different. The fingers were long and lithe and reminded her of spiders.

"Why do you look like this?" Mina asked as she continued touching form. So they were right, it seemed, about the demon part. Mina didn't really believe them until that moment. They said that vampires became demons at night but she had not quite believed them. 

"My true form," he spoke with a voice full of dry sarcasm. "A curse for being what I am. We must hunt at night, so we get this form instead of our daylight ones."

"And you can change it?"

"With much energy," he responded. As he spoke, he took her hands and began placing kisses up her arms. "I haven't much tonight, I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Mina said as her legs wrapped around him. He held her there as she ran her fingers in his hair. Whatever this monster was, it certainly adored her. "Do you feel different? When you're like this. Or at night in general, I suppose."

"You're full of questions," he said with a light laugh. Then suddenly his lips were back on her neck, suckling her softly. She felt her body relax against him. There was something very peculiar happening in which she realized this monster didn't scare her all that much. In fact, there was something most peculiarly arousing about him, which was exceedingly worrying. "That's common."

Mina gasped, "What's common?" He laid her back on their bed as he gave her some smirking smile. Her mind turned, "Can you read my thoughts?"

"Certainly," he said as though that were the most obvious of things. 

She gasped, "Always?"

"Yes," he moved his fingers down between her legs and again had that terrible smirk. "We're soulmates: I told you as much."

"When will you make me like you?"

That seemed to have upset him, though she did not know quite why. The monster sat back and away from her and Mina felt the strangest stab to her chest. Had she displeased him? God, what a vile thought, worrying about displeasing man... But it was not because he was a man, it was because she loved him. She loved him and she did not want him to be upset at all. So Mina sat up too, wishing she weren't quite so naked but dismissing the thought. Her hand reached for his cheek, his cold and strange cheek, and brushed him softly.

"Vladimir?"

In lieu of answer, he kissed her again. The passion was more pressing this time. Mina couldn't think of anything else to say for the rest of the night.

**OOO**

“Tell me everything!” Julie demanded before Clara had even stepped inside. “Let me live my dreams through you.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Clara laughed. Stepping into their apartment, she saw to her relief her bag upon the table. It made her think of last night. It made her think of the kissing and the touching and all the other peculiar things. Besides the peculiar bit, Clara imagined it was quite a normal first time. It had hurt. It had not hurt as bad as everyone said it would, but it had still been uncomfortable. Clara imagined it would’ve been more uncomfortable if it were with someone she did not know. She did not know him. Well, she did. _This is all insane._

Yet not all of it had been awkward. No, not in the slightest. So many parts of it had been wonderful, too wonderful. Clara wanted to go back to him right now. Why had she left? She hadn’t anything to do today, so why leave him? He was so kind to her. And when he touched her it felt… Clara was certain she was flushing.

Julie followed Clara into her bedroom.

"What do you want me to tell?" Clara laughed as she glanced herself in the mirror. The dreaded 'morning after.' Though Clara found she didn't look all that dreadful. Yet that damn bite mark was there like a goddamned beacon. She moved to her closet and pulled out a t-shirt that was not white nor lacy.

Julie sat on the bed, "Everything and all of it." She hesitated. "And I'm sorry I got drunk last night. That was super shitty of me."

"Thanks," Clara couldn't hide her surprise. Julie usually never apologized for such things. Clara began changing as her friend began chatting.

"But, my drunkenness made you get driven home by him, so you can thank me for that."

Clara rolled her eyes, sliding out of her shirt and into the new one. But she was right. And Clara could not help but think this had all been a plan of some kind. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

Julie gaped, “You are literally covered in hickeys. This is everything I’ve ever wanted for you.”

“Shut up.” Clara groaned but could not hide a smile.

“Also, good job Christopher. Guy is obviously a deranged sex animal.”

“Stop talking.” Clara had on her t-shirt now and moved to sit upon her bed. Julie’s eyes grew with a mischievous light, leaning into her friend.

"Tell me, tell me, tell me!"

"It was...nice," Clara couldn't think of another word. Well, another word she'd be comfortable telling Julie. _It was absolutely phenomenal,_ Clara wanted to say, but Julie would laugh at her for saying such a thing. Julie was so nonchalant about sex. No doubt she'd tell Clara that she was being ridiculous is Clara said it was anything more than nice.  
_I think I love him,_ Clara thought to herself, _though I hardly know him. That's the bizarre part: I do know him. I just can't remember quite when._

Julie guffawed, "Nice? You can do better than that, Clara Porter." She pressed on her friend's knee. "Was he huge?"

"Julie!" Clara blubbered her face growing redder.

Julie nudged, "Was he?"

"Ugh, I don't..."

"He totally was."

"Please, stop talking," Clara pleaded as she pressed her fingers on her lips. "I don't know he was...decently sized."

"Decently sized," Julie teased with a ridiculous laugh. "Tell me everything!"

So Clara told her all she could. All the things that made sense at least. The things that were weird she kept to herself. Julie made Clara explain all the hickeys so Clara tried to make it sound less weird and less vampiric. Tried to make it sound like she wasn't totally in love with him for some reason. Julie giggled and oohed and seemed to think the whole thing really romantic. It also seemed she did not recall anything strange from the previous nights, which Clara supposed was good. 

Julie interrupted, "Totally in love with you. He's completely in love with you."

"Shut up," Clara groaned. She kicked her legs over the bed and stood up. Her whole body ached, which was weird, bit Clara tried not to think much about it. Dracula: that was his name. Clara knew that and somehow knew that he was not a man she was not meant to have been with. Well, he was a vampire, so Clara supposed that had been much cause for alarm. Yet they still had been together. Clara remembered very clearly their being together. Clara wanted to go back upstairs right now and fall into his arms again. But she had other things to do first.

Clara breathed, “I’ve got to run to the library.”

“The library?” Julie said in a skeptical tone.

Clara nodded, “I’ve got to work on a paper. Then I’m going back to Christopher’s for dinner.”

“Ugh, your life is so much better than mine.” Julie groaned, standing up slowly. “Well, have fun your papers, you slut. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks,” Clara nodded and soon her friend was gone.

**OOO**

How do you research vampires?

Clara thought of that scene in _Twilight_ where Bella googles vampires on some ancient computer and finds a bunch of weird Wikipedia articles. In fact, Clara’s first instinct had been to google vampires until she realized that was definitely stupid. Or maybe not. She did it regardless and found very artsy and erotic pictures that didn’t really help her research but definitely peaked her interest. She found some really weird online chat room (who knew those still existed?) for people claiming to be creatures of the night. _The Vampire Diaries, The Vampire Chronicles,_ and even more _Twilight,_ but nothing really helpful. Of course.

The library was her second option. The library was a comfortable place and she knew they had some weird books about the history of fantasy. A couple of times she’d stumbled across it and mused at the titles but never read any of them. So Clara went off to the library, prayed that no one she knew would be there, and began digging. She found all the books about vampires she could and placed them in a pile on a desk. She flipped through them trying to find things that rang a bell but hardly anything did. It was generic things, things she already knew about vampires. Nothing specific. No mention of a Dracula or a Mina. Though after the first few books, she found one to catch her eye. A section of it read:

‘…though vampires have immortality and often immense power, one key factor is their separation of soul. Old lore suggests that a part of the vampire’s soul is plucked from them when they are turned and placed into the body of another. The vampire must find this other, else ne’er be completed again…’

Clara searched for more about this. She found various other passages, but nothing in immense detail. It seemed vampires were cursed to spend their lives searching for this other half and would not be complete until it was obtained. When it was obtained, Clara knew not what happened. There was no mention of what happened next.

Soulmates, that’s what Christopher had said they were. Is that what he meant? Did she have a bit of his soul in her? But if she had lived before, what did it mean? Had that bit of soul been there before? Had he been unable to…to do whatever was needed to be done?

Clara shut the books and placed them on the cart to be shelved. She did not feel any better about any of this. God, she needed to see him again. Another part of her was telling her to run away.

**OOO**

“Hi.”

Clara felt awkward for saying it, which was stupid since it was a very typical thing to say. She felt stupid even now staring at him though that too was normal; he had just opened the door. And he was so handsome. Clara felt her whole being sparking again as he smiled at her and she chided herself for it because that a guy was making her feel so stupid. She was like a girl in a romance novel, and Clara hated romance novels.

“I probably should’ve texted when I was coming over, that would’ve been less weird.” Clara was doing that very fun thing where she started talking too much when she felt uncomfortable. “Not just showing up at your apartment like some weirdo…”

“You’re fine,” he laughed and she felt herself flushing again. God, was she eleven? _I don’t know shit about any of this, sorry,_ Clara thought. She wished she’d at least remember how to talk to men. Obviously that was a skill she’d had in the past. Just another thing she couldn’t remember. “Come in.”

She did, clutching the weird, old library book in her hand. His apartment felt strange now, like it was alight with electricity. That was a weird thing to think, but she thought it regardless. Every bit of her ached for him to be near to her and touching her, which was also weird. Clara was in love with him. That was the weirdest of all.

She breathed, “So, I went to the library.” They were standing in his now as she spoke. Well, she supposed it was intended to be a living room but he did refer to it as a library. The apartment was so stuffy with its few windows. How could he stand it? Yet as she thought it, he was there behind her. It did not feel her with the warm fuzzy feelings it was meant to feel her with. He still…he still freaked her out. He was still so new. New, yet familiar. God, God… Why couldn’t she just remember? Maybe she’d be less goddamned panicky if she just remembered.

“I don’t know how much you’re allowed to tell me.” She emphasized as she moved to sit in one of the old armchairs. Had she upset him? When the guy you’re dating stands close to you, Clara was pretty sure you weren’t supposed to just walk away. Damn, she was so bad at this. No doubt he hated her. “What with the laws and whatever.”

“You don’t need to go researching.” He laughed lightly, kneeling down in front of her. Having him stare at her like that was making her cheeks flush and she didn’t want her cheeks to flush. His hand rested on the book, which was far too close to her thigh, and she felt a warmth there. God, he needed to move away. Clara was losing every train of thought. “You’ll remember in time.”

“And if I don’t?” Clara felt her pace quicken. His hand moved off the book and onto her pant leg. She didn’t like him touching her like that. She want him touching her more… Damn, did every other person feel like this? Clara was fairly certain that normal people could control their own damn feelings. “I just wanted to read. And I found this passage. You said before that we were soulmates. Last night or…or sometime. I just remembered you saying it.”

With shaking fingers, Clara opened her book and displayed the marked passage. She watched as he read it, thinking about how handsome he was and about how she wanted to lock her fingers into his hair. Her thoughts went from adoring to vulgar very quickly until she felt herself turning bright red again. _Get a hold of yourself,_ she cursed, but couldn’t help it.

“Who wrote this?” Christopher asked after a long moment.

“Dr. Abraham Van Helsing,” Clara said. She had memorized the name. As she watched Christopher, she saw a change settle on his brow and in his eyes. “Do you know him?”

“I knew him,” his voice was strained as he said it. “I had never read his studies.”

Without even asking, Clara could tell that Dr. Van Helsing was not one that Christopher was found of. It made sense: of what she’d perused, Van Helsing did not have a very good view of vampires. They were all hypnotists and liars. They were sure damnation and corruption and nothing good was within them.

Clara spoke, “Did I know him?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Christopher stood, releasing his hand from her leg and pacing about the library.

“I should start keeping a notebook of all the cryptic things you say to me.” Clara teased, setting the book upon the table and standing up as well. “You say a lot of cryptic things to me.”

“Mina-“

“I know,” she grumbled. “Law.” Thoughts began rushing in her mind. “Mind you, whose law is it? The Volturi? Is this _Twilight?_ I’m going to be very mad if this is _Twilight._ ” She wanted him to smile. This Van Helsing man had affected him more than she had ever anticipated and now she knew not what to say to him. Perhaps Van Helsing killed me, Clara considered. She hadn’t the faintest idea. She hadn’t the faintest idea about anything.

He breathed, “It’s not law, per-say. There was no court. But bringing you back was…difficult. The process was very singular.”

“How did you find me?”

“Did you come here to interrogate me?” He said with a playful smirk and it seemed the mood had passed.

Clara smiled, “No. But, I want to remember.” Her lover-once-husband did not answer. “You’re a tech person. Perhaps you internet stalked me.” He laughed again lightly, taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips. It was not an answer, but Clara was not against it. “I’m trying to remember.”

“Do not fret about it,” he kissed her wrist this time. She felt the tingle of it all through her body. How she wanted him. Was it super weird to want to have sex with someone in, like, the middle of the day? Clara had no idea. “They’ll come back. Until then…”

“Until then…” Clara began and tried to string some thoughts together. “Until then, you don’t even know me.”

Ah, bad thing to say. See, Clara was absolutely shit at this. She was supposed to giggle and kiss him and say something like “I want you” while batting her eyes and being adorable. Clara never thought herself to be very adorable. It was a thing her friends often called her, but never a thing she was actively trying to be. Very clearly, she was terrible at it. Very clearly Christopher didn’t want to have sex with her anymore for he seemed to change the air about him as easily as one changes clothes.

She dropped her head, “Sorry. I didn’t mean for that to sound so bad.”

“No, no,” he dismissed with a weak smile. “It didn’t-“

“I could tell you about me!” Clara suggested almost too immediately. “If you want me to, of course. I know I’ve kind of talked to you but I can tell you…other things I guess.” She studied his face and because he didn’t say anything she decided she needed to say more. “You can tell me about you. What you can tell me I guess. Maybe you don’t have to say anything-“

Christopher laughed, “You can tell me anything you want to about you.” Both her hands were in his as he leaned near and placed a kiss upon her lips. She felt a proper idiot for saying anything at all. Now, he wouldn’t want to have sex and Clara so badly wanted to have sex… 

After long moments of her feeling like an idiot, Clara began talking about herself with the help of his questions. Occasionally, she’d say something that made him smile wistfully and she wondered what he’d been reminded of. Perhaps she had not changed much from the woman she had been. Clara like to think of this woman. A beautiful woman; the woman seemed much prettier than she in this memory. A perfect woman. Clara doubted she could compare even though she was her and that made no sense. But none of this made sense.

They had made their way to his bedroom and it hadn’t been strange for it seemed they both knew what the other wanted. Their talking turned to kissing as his questions grew a bit more…intimate and they made love again and Clara was so happy she felt like she could die. It hurt less this time, and still felt wonderful, and Clara still wanted to stay here with him and never go. There had been no vampire-y things this time, but Clara did not care. It had been good without it. Great without it.

“I want to ask you things, but I don’t know what’s allowed.” Clara said as the lay next to each other.

“I cannot…” He began and then seemed to reconsider. “I cannot tell you things that are a part of your memory. You must remember on your own and decide your fate on your own.”

“’Decide my fate’?” Clara repeated with a singsong tone. He grew rather sober. “Are my memories bad? Did you do…bad things?”

“I’ve been alive six hundred years. I have done bad things.”

It was such a simple statement that Clara did not know how to respond. Yes, yes of course he’d done bad things. He was a vampire, after all, and none of her readings had ever claimed vampires to be good creatures. Yet he was not bad to her. Did that have merit at all? Were her own feelings lies? Clara felt like he had been good to her. Clara felt like he loved her. All those year ago, he had loved her.

“Do you love me?” She asked for whatever reason.

“Of course, I love you.” He told her and it filled her with warmth.

“I love you,” Clara told him even though she did not know him. She fell asleep resting against him and let no other bad thought penetrate her mind.


	8. Something Wicked

Nearly a fortnight had passed since the night of the party and Clara still did not remember much more of her life from before. Yet her friends took every moment to jab at her rich, older boyfriend so Clara could never get Vladimir Dracula cleared from her mind. Even in her dreams she'd think of him. He'd come to her window at night on occasion. It seemed he never wanted to be parted from her, and honestly Clara did not wish to be parted from him either. She'd always thought that the sign of an unhealthy relationship. She supposed it could be given a pass in these very peculiar circumstances.

For that is what this was: a very peculiar circumstance. Clara was certain no one else had ever had such circumstances, and if they did, she pitied them greatly.

All her friends wanted to meet him, but Clara couldn't think that appropriate. She wasn't entirely sure why. It seemed all her time now was spent hiding him for how was she meant explain any of this? Focus. Clara stared at the literature laid out in front of her. Some very old book that was originally in German and Clara couldn't even remember the title. She couldn't even focus. Focus was something she'd been having trouble with ever since…

"I'm too ready from rich boy's Halloween party." Katie sat down at the table, coffee in hand. Yes, that was the other source of stress. Christopher had deemed it perfectly all right to throw a Halloween party at his apartment even though Clara had thought that a bad plan. 'It shan't be large,' he'd insisted. 'It's for my colleagues at work. Invite your friends. I want to meet them.' Clara hadn't wanted to, but she did, and now it was three days away and she didn't want to think about any of it.

"I can't even think about that." Clara answered with the thought in her mind.

Katie smiled, "What's up?"

"Homework." She gestured to the table. "I don't even have a costume. And I don't know how to talk to his work colleagues. What do they even talk about? Is it like the comment sections of LinkedIn? I hate the comment sections of LinkedIn."

"It'll hopefully be less sexist than that." Samantha chimed in. She was a year younger than them and Katie's sorority little. The haunted house philanthropy had gone very well, so the two of them had been in exceptionally perky moods of late. "It'll be fine, Clara. You're smart. Talk about smart people things."

"Ah, yes. My anxiety is cured."

Samantha laughed, "And you're funny. It'll be fine."

"All right." Clara agreed absentmindedly. That seemed to be how she did all things now: absentmindedly. Her mind felt split in two ever since that night. One half was focusing, the other half trying to desperately to remember…

When the day was over, Clara went to work and then home. She made dinner, took a long bath, and then laid in bed, too tired to do much else. But she knew he would come. He always came to her. Clara didn't mind it: she liked having him near. She'd grown very accustomed to sleeping with him by her side. That night was no different. He appeared, she let him in, and he kissed her sweetly before they went to her bed.

"You smell delectable." He said as he kissed her neck. It seemed he wanted to inhale her skin and Clara smirked at the thought of that. Her mind drifted, thinking of how he had not fed from her since the first time and how she wondered when he would again. Which was weird, for she certainly should not have liked such a thing. The liking of such a thing was really fucking weird, and she didn't want to tell him that. Unless of course it was a normal thing. But how does one ask such a question without inclining towards a suggestion?

He pulled back, "Clara?"

She smiled, "Sorry. Lost in thought."

"That's all right," he kissed her again. "What were you thinking of, my darling?"

Again, a time where any normal girl would've said something seductive and laid herself upon the bed in a provocative manner. But Clara was not a normal girl and certainly not very provocative so she simply answered what he asked.

"I was wondering," she began, her hand brushing his face. "I was wondering how often you have to…to feed. I…" Clara felt him staring at her with his strange staring. "I don't mean… I'm just curious, that's all."

"As often as I will, I suppose." Christopher answered as though her question had not been strange. "I can go for long periods without it, though I always feel better if I have it frequently." Like he sensed her next question, he smiled at her smirkingly. "I did not wish to frighten you again."

"It didn't frighten me." Clara laid against her headboard and felt him gazing at her again. He made her feel absolutely naked when he looked at her like that. Half crawling, he came nearer to her as though to kiss her, but Clara spoke before he could. "And it did not hurt."

"It doesn't." He answered plainly, brushing her hair back from her neck. Oh, so he was going to do it again right now… Clara felt her pulse quicken and she didn't know why. It didn't scare her. It was just very sudden. And something in him seemed to change at the prospect of it. Something unfamiliar and animalistic grew out of him at the prospect of it. She could see the fangs coming from him gums and something else happening to the rest of him. Yes… yes! Something else was happening. He was changing. Changing like he had before and Clara had not noticed. He'd done this before! She remembered but… Yes, he would change. Change into something completely different.

Clara touched him, "Your skin." She remarked it as she tugged at his shirt. It was a strange thing to see and even stranger to describe. He was still himself but much different. Like himself but covered in shadows. Like himself but elongated and ridged. Himself he was, but a monstrous version of it.

In a moment, he moved away from her but Clara caught him by his sleeve. She smiled: she remembered this. Maybe not in its full context, but she remembered it. This monster. Yes, this strange monster was her own. It should've frightened her. It always should've frightened her but Clara did not care. It excited her, this strange form. It aroused her.

"Wait." Clara hooked her arm around his neck, bringing him back up close to her. She pressed her lips onto his and tried to pull him as close to her as she could.

"You're not scared?" Kisses trailed onto her neck, her jaw, and then she felt his teeth pulling on her ear.

Clara gasped, "Not at all."

"I want your blood," he told her heavily and Clara nodded without hesitation. She'd give him anything if he kept kissing her like this. To the bed he lowered her, his kisses reaching her breasts and chest before moving to her neck again. Before she could consider it, Clara felt his fangs protrude and stick into the side of her neck.

The feeling of it felt like a great boulder dropping into her chest. No, no: it felt like white hot lightening pouring in her veins. It felt like an electricity that spread from her chest and all out around her. It was a pleasure so acute that it was nearly pain. Clara could not understand it and she did not even care to. It was weird, certainly, but she liked this pain. She adored this pain. And she wanted him nearer like some desperate yearning being. She hardly even felt human with how much she wanted him. It was all consuming, turning her vision red and her senses up to a new level.

He pulled away and Clara instantly drew him to her lips. She tasted her metallic blood along his mouth but she did not care. It did not matter. Nothing mattered. They shared blood; there were no taboos. Clara wanted him, like something not human she wanted him, and that was all that was real.

Christopher pulled off her nightdress and her underwear, kissing her bare skin and biting into different bits of it but Clara did not care. He moved about so quickly that he had to have had a power over her. It felt like he was everywhere in one moment. Yes, yes: she remembered this. She remembered the feeling of this. Like making love but so, so much better. So very different from…from anything. And they had told her, they had all told her he was demon. They'd insisted something of the devil was in him but if this was the devil then Mina did not care…

She gasped: she was remembering. Just another piece, but she was remembering.

"Are you a demon?" Clara asked suddenly. Another moment where she probably shouldn't have said anything. She heard him smirking yet felt him moving inside of her and Clara could not make sense of anything. This was something not human at all, not in the slightest.

He nibbled her ear, "A little bit, my darling." Another bite. "Do you mind?"

Clara shook her head. There were many things she minded: her boyfriend being a demon was not one of them. Which was definitely number one on the "Reason's Clara is a Fucking Weirdo" list.

**OOO**

Mina heard a strange rapping at the window and knew it was him. Of course, of course it was him: he'd said he'd come to her. He'd said he'd come speak to her again and Mina had agreed for she has been too confused to not agree. Then he had caressed her face and called her his love again and everything had been so muddled she could just scream.

She need not let him in. No, no Mina could leave him there to rot if she wished it. He needed her invitation to enter and why should she give it? Not after this afternoon... Mina had no cause to let him in. That ridiculous proposal. Offering to marry her. Claiming he wished for her hand, it was nonsense. He was a monster. Her Count Dracula was something inhuman. Something that was not her Count Dracula. How greedily he had grasped her in his arms. How glutinously he kissed upon her hand, her wrist, her neck... Mina remembered the latter with a bright flush coming to her cheek. His lips had pressed to her neck then kissed up her jaw to bite upon her ear. It had been so remarkably passionate and...

Mina unlatched her window, finding him seemingly floating outside of it. For a moment she simply gazed at him, this odd peace residing in her. The night sky was speckled behind him, and in front of it he looked like some great bird.

"Come in," Mina said without being prompted. He did so easily, stepping down before her and shutting her window without moving his hand. Now it was he who gazed quietly and her. She spoke, "We must be quiet. John, Jack, and Quincey are nearby. They are watching Lucy." She blinked, "I wonder if she'll know that you're here."

Away from him she turned, moving further back into her bedroom. Count Dracula was still staring, she felt it, but she knew not what to say to him now. She stood in front of her mirror, watching her reflection flicker in the dim candlelight. Mina felt him move though his reflection did not show. He could not get to close. Mina would not allow him to get too close. Abruptly, she turned, stopping him though he was hardly an inch from her.

"You said you wanted to speak with me," she continued. "Speak."

His hand brushed her hair, "Mina..."

"Don't." She told him immediately. "Do not touch me. Speak."

"What do you wish me to speak upon?"

God, she could slap him he was so damnably coy. It was like she was doing a dance with him. A dance she did not much enjoy and did not wish to partake in. And he just kept staring at her. That awful stare from his red eyes like she were naked or bare in front of him. Like he knew every one of her secrets. Like he knew how she wanted to kiss him, yes kiss him. Kiss him and take him to her bed and let him do what...whatever he willed with her. He knew far more about such things than she, he would be the one to show her. All those strange, deep and black desires she possessed: he would sate them. Mina knew that. She knew that like she knew her own name and yet she... How was she to allow him near her? How was she to kiss him after all he'd done?

"The soulmates, the marriage, the love: whatever you deem easiest to explain to me." Mina's words were cold and biting. Good: she'd meant them to be. "For I don't understand the lot of it."

"I know you." He said like that answered her question. Mina met his dark red eyes with a visible smirk. No, she would not be frightened of this man. "Before I saw you, I knew you. You have my soul."

"You've said," Mina bit. "What do you mean, Vladimir?" It was the first time she'd uttered his name aloud. It shook her to realize such a thing.

"I know everything about you."

She tried to scoff, for that could not be true. These vampires were liars, the men had said. Master manipulators. They said and did whatever they wanted to achieve their ends. In fact, Mina should certainly not have one alone in her bedroom with her. Yet she'd come closer to this monster than any of the men had. She would not be fearful.

"I know you." He repeated, and Mina found she could not scoff. His eyes were... there was something about them now. "I know every bit of you. I know those things about you you've never told anyone. I know those feelings you have and cannot confess to any other: I know you."

She wanted to retort. She could give an easy 'do you?' and smirk and walk away. Mina could be coy and cold and leave him but she could not move. Maybe this was hypnosis. Maybe he was as masterful at that as she'd been told. As she gazed, his hands cupped her face, moving down her form slowly like he was analyzing every bit. Like it was a part of him.

"The darkness, Mina. I know about the darkness. Those thoughts you have. How the darkness does not terrify you like it's meant to. How it obsesses you. Arouses you. How you wait up every evening to greet the moon and share those thoughts you cannot think by day: I know that."

He kept speaking. He kept speaking and Mina felt her vision spiraling inwards. She felt her consciousness failing. He spoke and came nearer and held her like she were his lover.

"I know I do not frighten you though you've told yourself I should. I know you've considered what I said. I know you want to sate that desire inside of you that burns bright as an ember." He held her face like he was going to kiss her. God help her if he kissed her. "I know what you truly want is love, though you'd never dare admit it. That is your darkest secret of all. You want love, but no ordinary love. You want love that is dark, deep, and consuming. You want a love affair of passion, pain, and full on unspeakable things. I know all of this, Mina, because I know you. Because you are mine."

"I..."

"Be mine." Nearer he drew her, his lips brushing upon her temple. "Be blood of my blood and flesh of my flesh." The kisses trailed along all parts of her face and it was painfully intimate she wanted to cry and to scream and she wasn't sure which she desired more. She wanted it. God, how she wanted everything he was saying. "You shall be my queen and my wife for you are my soulmate. My immortal companion. I sensed the moment you were born. I've sensed every moment of your life."

He was good at this. He was so good at this…this seduction. Yes, seduction. Mina knew exactly what this was. In the moments before, she'd told herself she'd never be so idiotic as to fall for this. Never, never would she fall easily into a seduction. Of course not, she'd told herself. Mina was not weak like other women. And now… Now she realized how wrong she had been. Mina was not weak, but he was so very, very strong. Giving in would not only be easy, but wonderful. It would be devilishly wonderful.

His hands slid along the sides of her body in ways that no gentleman's hands should be sliding along her body. This was completely indecent of him but God help her if he stopped. _I am yours,_ Mina wanted to confess. _I am yours and have always been yours._ The words she would not utter aloud, of that she was certain. But his hands drew her nearer as his lips pressed against her own.

She was gone now. All of the rest of her was gone and all that matter was her hands in his hair and his lips upon her own. They could not stop now. Mina would die if they stopped now.

But…

She pushed him back, "Vladimir-"

A kiss, "My Mina…"

"They are near," she whispered. Her mind was grasping for a reason to stop this. How she did not want to stop this. "They will know."

"I'll steal you away," he promised against her lips. "I'll steal you and they shan't ever find us."

"Vladimir…" Mina's protest was weak as she kissed him again. It grew weaker when his fingers brushed her breasts.

"You are my love," he said softly into her ear. Mina could die. She was going to die if he did not relieve her of this feeling in the pit of her chest. This feeling between her legs… "You are mine."

"Yes," Mina agreed. She kissed his lips greedily and they were upon her bed. That should've frightened her. It did not. "My love," Mina called him as his kisses trailed to her neck and his hands trailed down her form. "Please," she said and did not even know what she was asking for. Him, Mina wanted him. She wanted him to douse the fire burning deeply inside of her. And he touched her so well, yes so well. He trailed kisses from her stomach to her lips so softly that it hurt her.

His voice was low, "You are mine."

She agreed ardently.

A rush of light hit her. The bedroom door had been opened. The bedroom door had been opened and Mina's vision came back to her clearly. What was she doing? _What was she doing?_ What was he doing to her? The man atop her hissed and retreated into the shadows with a hiss as the men in the doorway bellowed prayers in Latin. Mina could not breathe. Mina could not breathe as the man who'd been kissing her faded into mist and left her all alone.

John ran to Mina's side immediately, obviously thinking her set upon by some lustful villain. Yes, yes, he was right. The monster had seduced her. The monster had confused her. Mina was not seeing clearly and tears welled in her eyes. John took that as her wanting to embrace him. She did not much want to embrace him, but did it regardless.

He was gone. Her Dracula was gone. He was gone and they were found out.

Good. Good. Mina was not meant to be with him. A human could not be with a vampire. A mortal could not be with a beast. It was better this way. It was better.

Mina thought about kissing him again. She told herself to shut out that thought. Shut it far, far away. It was better this way. It was better.

**OOO**

"What are you doing?" Clara laughed as he kept pressing his lips along her arm. It was like a cartoon, like something people didn't actually do, and Clara found it all to be rather amusing.

He smiled, "Kissing you." She rolled her eyes at his cheeky answer but did not want him to stop either. She wrapped the arm around him and drew his lips onto hers. They should just stay in bed all day. Well, maybe not just in bed. In fact, in his apartment, they'd had many wonderful moments in the bath, the shower, the living room...

It was two days until the party now. Two days until he met her friends and they would not doubt tease her for him. Her strange, older, vampire boyfriend. Not that they knew about that latter part. That would be hard to explain, seeing as Clara didn't know much of it herself. She knew that he looked weird when night came unless he was working weird hypnosis magic on people. She knew that he drank blood (obviously) and could go for periods without it. He did not sleep in a coffin, he did not burn in the sun (though prolonged exposure was undesirable) and garlic had no noticeable influence on him. Clara had not attempted to make him go to a church, but she did note the lack of any religious paraphernalia in the apartment. That wasn't weird she supposed: there wasn't any in hers either.

He spoke, "I love you."

"I love you," Clara replied. It always felt the strangest bit odd to say. That is to say, it was true when she said it, but still odd. Clara did love him. She loved him so much. But he loved her differently. He loved her for over a hundred years. He had over a century of love he'd been waiting to give her. The love he had was something she could not fathom. Perhaps that's why he was always kissing her, always touching her. Not that she minded it. Clara didn't mind it at all. Which was strange, for she should. Clara always hated people who were too tactile. She never hated it with him. It seemed he was always touching her in some way and never did she mind it. It was like...like he was just an extension of herself. Just another part of her.

A part of her she didn't know. Of course, it wasn't so bothersome sometimes but other times it irked her to no end. Like earlier in the week. They'd been in the shower and he'd been holding her and kissing her neck and suddenly he pulled back and looked at her. He looked at her in a way that she could not look at him. She could not look at him for she did not know him. He'd resumed what he'd been doing but that disappointment lingered on. Clara could not look at him like that. She could not look on his so adoringly. That's how he always looked at her: adoringly. Clara could not explain it. Even if they had been together before, Clara could not fathom how she deserved such a look.

"The party is tomorrow."

Clara groaned, falling back upon the pillows, sinking into them for they were far too fluffy for their own good. Christopher lay next to her, staring at her in confusion.

Clara spoke, "My friends are very eager to meet you."

"Are you afraid I'll disappoint them?"

She huffed, "Don't tease. I'm afraid it'll be…I don't know, weird."

"Weird?"

"Yes." Clara sat up for he was being damn coy and she did not like it. "How do I explain you?"

"You say, 'This is my boyfriend, Christopher'."

"Ha, ha," Clara roused.

He kissed her brow, "It'll be fine. It's just a business party. Nothing weird."

"Will there be wine?"

"Lot of wine."

"Ugh, fine," Clara relented and he laughed at her. "Now, when are we having dinner? I'm starved."

**OOO**

She pulled the pins from her hair very slowly, one and then the other. A room. A room with just one bed. God. God. Mina pressed her hands to her temples for they were cold and she thought they might soothe her. They did not. This was madness, madness. This had been her own plan. Mina had done this of her own accord. She had called to him, she had chosen him, and now she was frightened to be in a room alone with him?

It had not been so terrifying on the train. How quickly they had gotten onto the train. He'd already had bags for her. Bags packed with clothes that were new and for her and that alone was a bit eerie. He had prepared for this. He had prepared for their flight. New clothes. New clothes made just for her. Well, she needed them. Mina had not exactly had time to pack.

They'd masqueraded as husband and wife. Dracula already had papers for their passage. How ridiculous. How absolutely bizarre of him. Presumptuous. Presumptuous and conceited. The conceited and arrogant man. _You let him in_ , she told herself. _You let him kiss you that night. Kiss you and touch you and you called to him today. You flew with him. Do not blame him for all of your downfall._

He'd whispered to her sweetly on the train. They'd made it to Paris promptly and booked a hotel easily and now they were in a suite with one bed in it. One bed in it. It made everything in her sink to the floor if she thought about it and she kept thinking about it for she could see it reflected in her vanity mirror. A beautiful bed really, for the whole room was beautiful and certainly very expensive. He'd kissed her temple and said he'd be back soon before leaving. That was mere minutes ago. He'd gone to…to fetch the luggage boys, Mina remembered. The luggage he'd bought for her.

She pulled another pin from her hair and her curls cascaded down. One bed. The room had but one bed.

She was going to be sick.


	9. Memories

"Miss Murray!"

Clara was stopped suddenly by the old man with the wild eyes. Mr. Renfield stared at her through thickly be speckled glasses, gazing at her in some wide eyed wonder. Mr. Renfield had been a thing Clara had been much considering, seeing as he must have known them before. Or, at least, thought he knew them from before. Clara was not certain of a lot of things, but she was rather certain Mr. Renfield was not a vampire.

She smiled, "Mr. Renfield." Clara nodded kindly and continued to the elevator. Then man grabbed her arm harshly, and Clara jumped from the suddenness of it.

He whispered, "I must speak to you, Miss Murray. I must."

Clara had to get to Christopher. The party was to start soon and she promised she'd be early. But Mr. Renfield looked so disturbed, and perhaps she could get information out of him…

"Yes, Mr. Renfield. What is it?"

"You must leave this place, Miss Murray."

She blinked, "What?"

"He is…" Renfield squeaked and he glanced around his shoulder like something was hunting him. "A…mutual friend of ours. You know?" Clara stared at him with a blank expression. "The master, Miss Murray. You must leave here. You must be away from him."

"Mr. Renfield, please. I really must be going-"

Renfield held tighter, "He wants you so much, Miss Murray. You are to be his queen. But he is bad, Miss Murray. And he has not told you all he intends."

"Mr. Renfield, you're hurting my arm-"

"He is darkness and death. He is a demon. He is the end of it all. He is-"

"Mr. Renfield."

A third voice spoke. A third voice that filled Clara with relief and the old man with terror. Such terror Mr. Renfield was filled with that Clara wanted to reach out to assist him. The poor old man. The poor, confused old man. She wondered where his family was and why they had left him in this place. Surely, there was some other place he could be. He should not be alone like this.

A hand rested on Clara's shoulder. She knew who it was without turning.

"Good evening, Mr. Renfield."

Dracula watched as the man shrunk down before him. Renfield had always been a troublesome pest, but a troublesome pest with his own definite uses. But he should not be talking to Clara. His creatures should know better than to speak to Clara. Their speaking to Mina is what lead to all the trouble in the first place, and Dracula would not allow trouble again. Not now that she was back. Not now after all he'd done to have her back.

Renfield nodded, "Evening, Mr. Drake."

Dracula brushed Clara's hair, "I was just coming down to get you, darling."

"I was on my way up." Clara's voice shook as she spoke. What had he said? What had that ghastly little thing said to her? Who was this creature to think he could speak to her? Dracula sneered at the little man, the feeble old man, and he cowered once again.

He took Clara's hand, "We'll go up together then. Have a good night, Mr. Renfield."

The creature said nothing in return.

**OOO**

The party was good, Clara guessed. Well, it was nice. It was catered, so that was nice. And the food was really good so Clara wasn't unhappy. And she and Christopher had a lot of compliments on their costumes. They went for a 1920s look. Very Fitzgerald-y, as Julie had said. Clara supposed that was a good thing. Christopher had bought the dress, so it was probably outrageously expensive but he'd told her it was a present. He was always buying her presents. Which was very nice, but also uncomfortable. Again with the whole 'Clara couldn't love him as much as he loved her because of all this weird business with her memory' nonsense.

He was very nice to her friends, and they seemed to like him. Clara couldn't tell. It was awfully loud at the party and Christopher had to keep talking to other business-y people. Clara met them too and remembered absolutely none of their names. Which was fine, for most of them did not stay very long. And Clara spent most of the night talking with her friends anyway, so nothing was weird. Except for Renfield earlier in the hall, that had been weird. But other than that, everything was fine.

"I love your boyfriend!" Katie said so suddenly that Clara jumped a bit. Clara had had some wine—maybe too much wine—and everything felt a little weird. But she wasn't drunk, that would be impolite. She hoped desperately that her friends were not as well.

Clara smiled, "Thanks. Me too."

Katie laughed, "See, we told you you'd get a sexy, millionaire boyfriend."

Clara rolled her eyes and the rest of her friends gathered and idly chattered for a bit. The party wound down rather early, Clara supposed. Then again, it was a business party, so Clara supposed those didn't go late as a rule. Soon it was over and most people had left and the caterers cleaned up freakishly fast so Clara was left alone with Christopher and honestly relished it. It was one of her most favorite sensations: the quiet after the storm. Going home or being alone after being with others was Clara's most favorite sensation in the world. Well, she wasn't alone, she supposed. But when she was with him, it didn't feel like she was swarmed in people either.

"See: not so bad." Christopher placed a kiss on her lips as she stood by the kitchen counter. There were still bottles of wine. Lots of bottles of wine. Fancy wine too, for hardly anyone had been drinking.

Clara sighed, "Not bad at all. I was fully expecting a rager, but I guess I was wrong." And he laughed at her joke and poured her a glass of wine for he was perfect and must've caught her staring at it. So she proceeded to spend the next hour and a half drinking far too much of the fancy wine and getting very much wine drunk. Which is different from normal drunk, for wine drunk made Clara giggly, pensive, and far more sensual than she ever was normally.

She wondered if alcohol affected him. It seemed it did not, for he had a few glasses with no visible effect. Or perhaps you just build up a tolerance after a few hundred years.

"You're so handsome." Clara said at one point. She was laying her head against him and the whole room felt warm and wonderful. She drew her fingers up her shirt and played easily with the buttons. Deciding it would be better to be sitting, Clara rose and straddled him on the couch. She was not even thinking on the implications of this, just that it would be easier to take his tie off if she were sitting like this. After a moment, Clara realized the implications and giggled to herself.

He smirked, "Am I?" As he brushed the hair that had fallen from her 20s updo. She nodded and she pulled his tie loose and eventually off of him. Everything was a bit off kilter, but everything still made sense. Nothing was…nothing was entirely too bizarre. Her hands wrapped around his neck as his settled easily on her hips. Oh, Clara realized again what she was implying by sitting on him like this. It made her want to laugh. Everything made her want to laugh.

"Yes," Clara told him. "And all my friends are in love with you. I think they're going to try to run off with you."

"Well, I am in love with you." He told her and Clara giggled because he brushed her lips with his thumb.

Clara was drunk, that he could tell. She was never this forward, not even before was she ever this forward. It was a welcome change, he supposed, and amusing in the least. She rocked her hips slightly against him as she laughed and kissed his cheek softly. Her fingers fiddled with the buttons of his shirt until she figured out how to undo them and undid them until he stopped her.

"You should sleep, darling. It's very late."

"No," Clara pouted and kissed his lips. "No, I don't want to. Let's talk. We never talk."

"We talk all the time."

"But not _really,_ " Clara said with the certainly of one who was drunk. "Not about anything important."

He stroked her, "Darling…"

She moved closer, "Tell me about before."

"I cannot, Clara. I told you."

"No, no," she corrected like it was ridiculous he had not understood. "Tell me about before that. About you before me. Can't you tell me that?"

Dracula blinked, her bright blue eyes staring at her in the dim light of the living room. A good point. A very good point. Yet Mina had known about his past. These were things Mina had once known: were these things forbidden as well? There weren't any formal rules given out when he did what he had done. Dracula knew not what was permitted and what was not and he was certainly not going to risk anything now. Not now that she was back in his arms. Right now as she was in front of him and flesh and blood and alive. Dracula would risk nothing now.

She perked up, "Were you bad?"

"What?"

"You said before that you were bad. Were you bad?"

He breathed, "Yes."

Clara nodded like she already knew this. He saw that familiar focused look settling in her eyes and he wanted to plunge into her mind and take her thoughts out from in there. Yet he grew distracted as she weaved her fingers around in his hair, her gaze as absent minded and empty as a child's. He need not heed anything she said now, for the drink had taken her and she was far gone.

"Were you bad to me?"

"No." A lie. A slight lie, but a lie.

Clara pursed her lips, "We did strange things, did we not? Strange things in our bed. But I suppose everything was strange for you drank my blood. You still drink my blood." He laughed half-heartedly and was going to respond but some thought possessed her suddenly. Clara kissed his lips fiercely before breaking away from him and bringing his back down to the couch. "But I liked all the strangeness. You told me it was fine for me to like all the strangeness." Clara kissed him again as he was pinned under her. Again, she was drunk and knew not what she was saying, but he did like her near him so he did not try to stop her. He did not try to stop her as she kissed her neck and down his chest and licked his chest back to his lips again.

_Oh, my beloved,_ he thought as she kissed him passionately. Yes, he'd taught her to release the darkness. Taught her to love and accept all dark and immoral thoughts that passed into her mind. For there was no reason to be frightened of thoughts. No reason to be frightened of fantasy. And if one's fantasies were not harmful, then one need not be guilty of them. Some things he had done had been harmful, but never were things she had done. No, Mina was moral of character but darker when she was with him. Darker when they were alone and she could be free. She could be his companion, his wife, his soulmate. The part of him ripped from him cruelly but now his to have forever.

His mind drifted keenly as she continued to kiss him, as if oft did when they were together. Their first night. Their first night in that suite in Paris where she had been so frightened. Where she had worried he'd force himself upon her. No, no he would never do that to her. Never do that to his Mina. As the night progressed, Mina grew less frightened of him until they were kissing. Until they were upon their pseudo marriage bed and she looked up at him.

_"I've never made love," Mina had admitted to him softly. Her little fingers were still weaving the hairs at the back of his neck. Oh, the sweet thing, the beautiful thing. His lips pressed against her lithe wrist for he adored her like he had adored nothing before._

_"That all right, dearest." He drew his fingers down her side wishing he were touching the soft skin beneath. "We needn't, if you don't wish it."_

_It wasn't a lie. It wasn't a lie though he did desperately want to have her. Of course there were others ways of pleasure besides just that. He wanted...he wanted to pleasure her regardless. He wanted to see what he face would look like when he touched her. Stop that, he told himself instantly. He could feel his fangs piercing at his lip as he smelt her pounding blood filling the air. He could feel himself growing less human with her little hand pressed upon his chest. Please, don't be frightened of me, he wanted to beg. The last thing he wanted was for her to be frightened of him._

_"No," she said suddenly. Her small hand rested on his check. "No, I want to." Want to, the words rung in his mind intoxicatingly. "But I..." she stammered. "I have not. I do not know how-"_

_"Shh..." He pressed a light kiss on her jaw. Vladimir felt her melting as he kissed along her exposed neck. Those beautiful nipples were hard against her shift and he want to suck each into his mouth. He wanted her. For months he'd wanted her, years he'd thought of her. "It's simple." The promise was said as he pulled the string of her gown. "It's pleasurable. I want to pleasure you."_

_Her lips were back upon his at the words, kissing him deeply and hungrily. Yes, she wanted him. He was going to have her. A wonderful thought: to have her. He pulled the shift from her shoulders where it fell and rested on her hips. Her eyes looked at him like she were trying to catch his thoughts. He kissed her skin greedily, her neck, her collar bone and placed his hands on her perfect round breasts. My Mina, he growled in his mind. For she was his. His and only his now. She had chosen him. Mina had chosen him. The beautiful girl had chosen this horrible monster. For he was, most ardently, a monster._

_He slid his hand beneath the fabric of her gown and pressed his hand between her legs. Lightly she gasped and he wanted her to scream. He wanted her to cry out for him in this solitary suite of theirs. Vladimir pressed a finger inside of her, touching the rest of her softly. He buried his lips onto her then on her neck and she felt the scrape of his fangs against her for she shrieked a bit at it._

_"Darling," he called her and kissed her cheek softly._

_Mina breathed, "I'm all right." She hooked her hand around his neck. "Please, do not stop."_

_Mina pulled him back to her neck and he began sucking on her skin so fiercely that she cried out a groan. It would leave marks upon her but he didn't quite care. She was his. She was his own. They'd never leave this room. They stay here and be happy here. They'd be a family. They'd be complete. Almost like they were normal. Like they were human, which of course she was. Beautiful human. Beautiful human skin and blood that flowed so freshly beneath it. She was so beautiful. God, so beautiful. He wanted to take her hair in fistfuls and wrap it about himself_

_Mina sat up, her hands moving down to the front of his. She began to undo the buttons of his shirt and he resumed kissing upon her neck, her collar bone. The haze of the moment had overtaken her and some dreamy yet focused gaze settled in her eyes. She pulled the shirt from his arms and for a moment rested there gazing at him. Her hand touched softly on his skin like some curious child. Then, so softly, Mina pressed her lips to his skin. It was so sudden and so intimate that a very keen affection hit him immediately. His Mina. His own. She kissed his lips again and wrapped her arms about him._

_"Your blood," he breathed as he brushed the hair from her neck. "May I have it?"_

_Mina nodded in her haze, taking his head in her hands and placing it upon her neck. He stuck his fangs in and she nearly screamed. Her body heaved as he lowered her back onto their wedding sheets. The blood was sweet and rich and made for him. He needed her. Stopping his frenzy, Vladimir pulled away from the wound and kissed her lips instead. He pressed his fingers between her legs and felt her squirm with his touch. Mine, he thought greedily as he kissed the blood left upon her skin. He undid his trousers and removed them hastily._

_"Are you all right, my darling?" He asked for she had tensed beneath him. "We needn't. We needn't if you do not wish."_

_"I want to," Mina insisted again. He saw her fingers reach for the spot on her neck and touch it gingerly. She winced and he drew her fingers back and kissed them softly. "Will it...will it hurt?"_

_"No darling," a lie he quickly realized. He kissed her wounded neck. "It shan't hurt you."_

_So he kissed her lips and then down her form til he was between her legs. He kissed her there and pleasured her there until all discomfort had left from her body. Then he was inside of her and it seemed not to hurt like she had anticipated it to._

_"I love you," Mina said softly beneath him. He kissed her as she said it for she had not said it aloud before. "I love you, Vladimir."_

"I love you," Mina of the present said as she kissed against him. "And I'm remembering."

"What?" He breathed sharply and Clara giggled above him. As she sat back, he sat up too, staring at her for some sort of an answer. Instead, Clara began pulling the pins from her hair and setting them on the coffee table.

She nodded, "Bits and pieces. Maybe it's because I'm drunk, but there's definitely things there."

"What things?" He pressed immediately. Clara was unconcerned, taking off her earrings, her jewelry, her gloves. Dracula took her arm. "What things, my dearest?"

Clara smirked, setting her accessories aside and reaching for the zipper of her dress. As she began speaking, she pulled the dress over her head and put it too upon the table. She sat now in her undergarments and stockings, but he would not let her distract him. Remembering. What was she remembering?

"Little things," Clara said in a singsong voice. She smirked as she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him again. "I remember...I owned strange books. Bad books about bad women and I told you about them so you...so you showed me how to do those things." Clara giggled again, pressing herself against him. "And I remember...that I resisted you. Over and over again but I eventually gave in. You seduced me." She hung on the word. "Like they said you would, but I didn't care."

She was remembering. She was remembering. God, why now? Right now she was remembering it all. Would she remember this in the morning? Was it simply the drink doing this to her? Dracula held her as she continued to speak.

"And we had a suite in Paris when I ran away with you." She blinked, her voice beginning to shake. _No, no Clara,_ he thought desperately. Slowly, she moved away from him, moved away and towards the other side of the couch. She was remembering the bad. She was remembering the bad with the good and of course she was. Of course she was.

Clara steadied herself, "A-and you scared me one day. Yes, you scared me. And then...then I met her and she said that..."

"Darling-"

He reached for her and Clara reared back so quickly she nearly fell. It was flooding into her. The memories, both good and bad, were taking up residence in her mind. Clara pressed her hands upon her temples, her eyes bulging with the weight of it all. _Oh, my dearest. Oh, my love._

"I can't remember what she said, but it was bad and I-" Clara shook her head again, pressing her fingers against her skull. "I can't remember. But it frightened me. And with those other creatures…you, you frightened me. So I… I…"

"You left me."

She blinked. "Yes."

"Alone and without a word: you left me."

Her head snapped to him, "You frightened me. And she said…she said I was to serve you." Clara's eyes grew larger. "Yes, that was it. That was what she said. She was one of yours. One of yours like those others were and she told me what you meant for me. You meant for me to be your creature. That I was meant to serve you and be beneath you. I did not want to serve you."

"You do not need to serve me," he said instantly. Mina shook her head as he took her hands in his. "I will serve you. I always aimed to serve you, my Mina. My love." He kissed her hands but she would not look at him. "I am to serve you. My Mina. My queen."

Mina shook her head. She shook her head and cast his hands out of hers.

"And I... I realized what you were. What you always were and I never noticed. No, I did notice, but I did not care. You were a monster. A demon. Yes, a demon. And I hadn't cared! I hadn't cared! You were a monster, I'd seen your form and it made me lustful, not frightened. I was a monster. I had to be a monster for wanting you."

And she was breaking. Clara was breaking in front of him as the memories filled her at such a rate he wondered how she could catch them all. Her breaths were sharp and he saw her ribs heaving beneath her cool and pale skin. How he wanted to kiss her. He'd kiss her chest and her neck and then she could be calm again. She could be his again and they'd forget all that had passed between them. None of that mattered now, none of it mattered! Not that she was back. She was back and nothing at all mattered.

"I went back to them," Mina continued. In a moment, it seemed she noticed her own state of undress for she wrapped her arms around herself like he did not want her to look. "I took a train and went back to them. I didn't want you to find me so...so I went to a hospital first. Had a blood transfusion. I wanted you rid from my body, but I could not rid you from my mind. But I got your blood out of me."

"Clever."

"Yes," she agreed hastily. "For I hated you. You were the demon that had seduced me and I the idiot girl who had believed you. And it would be...it would be safer if I went home. Home would be much safer. I'd marry John, he was decent. I'd stay safe and Van Helsing would kill you and then I would be free."

Mina breathed, fiddling with the fallen bits on hair upon her. Still, he wanted her. Still he'd rather just kiss her and comfort her but she was remembering. She was remembering every last bit of it.

He blinked, "But?"

"But," Mina continued. "They were liars too. All the men were liars. They petted me and protected me when I returned, but not for long. Not for long at all. They needed to purify me. They needed to purify me and I soon realized what they meant."

"To kill you."

"Yes, to kill me." Mina spoke and her voice began breaking. Her form began crumbling down in front of him. Her hands slid from her legs and large, full tears dropped down onto her bare legs. He needed to hold her, needed to touch her. Needed to have her though she had betrayed him. Though she had left him. But she threw up a hand. "No," she said sharply. "No." And her voice broke again as the tears became too powerful and she curled over herself with them.

She sniffed, "And they did. And I let them. I let them for I deserved to die. Such wreckage I had wrought. I had hurt them. I had hurt...I had hurt you. I loved you. Even if you were a monster, I loved you so much. So very much..."

He didn't care if she did not want him, Vladimir moved down the couch and took the girl in his arms. She sobbed into his shoulder, the weight of her relaxing into him. _My darling, my darling,_ he crooned while stroking back her thick blonde hair. _They'll never part us again,_ he promised to her silently. _I shan't let anyone touch you, anyone at all. You are mine now. Mine forever._

"You're here now," he whispered into her ear. "You are here and you are mine. None of it matters now. None of it matters. We are together again."

Mina lay against him, her hand grasping at the back of his shirt. She remembered. She remembered and she was his. There was nothing else that mattered, nothing else that remained. She was his own now. She would be his own now and forever.

"How did you bring me back?" Mina asked ardently. "They killed me. I was dead. How did you bring me back?"

"Mina-"

"How?" She pressed, pulling back with a fierce look in her eyes. A look he had not seen in a hundred years. "I am meant to be dead."

"No," he told her fiercely. More tears dropped from her beautiful eyes. He placed kisses on her face hungrily. "No, no, you aren't meant to be dead. You're meant to be alive with me. Alive and with me." He kissed her forehead, "I love you."

"N-no," she stammered and pushed him away from her. He would not let go. No, not now. How could he let go of her now. "I betrayed you. I-I..."

"I don't care," he kissed her temple and held her so tightly it must've hurt her. "It does not matter, Mina. My Mina."

"No!" She pronounced more fiercely this time, pushing from him with such strength that he had to heed her. Yet her fingers rested on his chest for a moment before pulling them back to herself. "No. No this is not right, is it? It's not right. I am meant to be dead. I am not meant to be living."

"You are meant to be with me." He told her and she recoiled away from him immediately. "That is what is meant. That is what is fated. If it were not fated, you would not be back."

"How am I back?" Clara pressed, her hands drawing into the back of his neck. "How, Vladimir?"

He hesitated. There were more things. More things he had lied about. More things he had not told her.

Mina pressed, "How?"


	10. Soulmates

“I feel sick,” Clara said without even giving him a chance to answer. She was pulled back, far away from him as she could be without standing. It was rushing into her mind. All of it. All of it at once was flooding into her and there was nowhere for it all to go. It was all to fill up her mind until it ruptured and overflowed. Christopher wanted her dead, of that she was sure. For she was to die from all these thoughts in her head. 

A childhood. A home. Whitby. Orphaned. Julie…no Lucy. Men. Men she knew, her friends. Jonathan. Christopher. Dracula. A vampire, a villain. Her lover. Her husband. Paris. Their suite. An attack. Runaway. They came into her mind like jumbled pictures not yet in focus. They were words upon a page but they were not yet in order. Her heart was pounding and her brain was mush and her whole body felt hot and cold in the very same moment. This was not right. This was not right. Mina was not meant to be here. She was meant to be dead. She was not meant to be living. But Clara… Was Clara meant to be living? Was there a separation at all?

“You went to her,” Clara’s voice didn’t sound like her own. It was lower and full of vitriol. She didn’t know the words she was saying. “That gypsy woman. The one who’d told me all about you. You made a deal with her. You did this to me. You made her bring me back.”

Clara was unsure how she knew this, but she saw the vision play in front of her eyes. Vladimir, her husband, sickly and enraged and going to the gypsy woman’s home. He’d killed all of them, all those who had hurt her. They were gone now, ripped to shred. The shreds of them were now a part of him. This woman had done it. This woman had made his Mina leave him. She’d frightened her, and Mina had left him. But the gypsy woman was cunning. She knew exactly what he wanted as she knew what everyone wanted. She’d offered him his Mina back. A chance to start again. He’d taken it without a thought. Without a thought on anything.

_But everyone…_ Clara thought. Everyone had returned, not just she. Lucy, John, Quincey, Jack…. Van Helsing. She thought, at least. She could not remember. This was mental. She was dying. She was dying.

“Do not touch me!” Mina bellow when he placed a hand upon her shoulder. Monster. Abuser. To take advantage of her when she could not remember. But she’d wanted him… God, it was all so infuriating.

After she’d left him, after she’d gone home, they’d told her she would be safe but she was not. They asked her questions, humiliating questions, and she’d told the truth. It would’ve been safer to lie. She remembered John’s face when she’d told the truth. He’d hated her for it. Mina hated herself to. But she was too far. They only way to cleanse her was death. The only way to end his curse upon her was death. Mina should not had left him. Mina had loved him but… but…

The gypsy woman. Those things she had said.

Mina stood. She stood like an idiot wearing naught but her undergarments. She had never felt so sober in all her life. But her head was ringing. Her body was shaking. Honestly, Clara was surprised that she could even stand. This was an attack. A very bad attack. This was a Clara-was-going-to-be-sent-to-the-hospital attack. She could feel when they were going to happen and this one was going to be monstrous.

“Mother of Monsters?” Clara muttered and hoped he’d understood. From the look in his eyes, he had. “She told me y-you wanted to m-make hundreds of c-creatures. I d-don’t k-know what that means but I... You scared me. You s-scare me so b-badly.”

“Clara,” he began softly. Her lover moved towards her like a zookeeper moves towards some wild beast. It could’ve been amusing if the world was not collapsing. “We’ll talk. Let us talk as she should have before.”

“I feel sick,” Clara repeated and felt her head nodding to the side. She felt his hands grip her shoulders and then her vision spiral to black. It’s odd how that happens in an attack. It wasn’t a faint, she had not swooned, Clara simply could not see. Her hands tried to grasp at him, but she could not will them to move. Off the ground she was lifted and carried into bedroom. She heard a pill bottle. Yes, her pills. They kept some in his bathroom. A glass of water. He had her take it and Clara was in no mood to fight him. She couldn’t even see him. 

They were kneeling on his bed and he was clinging to her. It was a bit too hot having him near to her but Clara could not tell him. He held her head in his arms and was stroking her hair and muttering things in a language she did not understand. At a point he said he would take her to the hospital but Clara immediately shook her head. How would she explain this to the hospital? She didn’t want to go back into the mental ward. Not that it had been bad. No, no they had been so nice and they had helped her tremendously. But Clara didn’t want to be the girl that relapsed. She couldn’t be the girl that relapsed.

She had bouts of hysteria in the past as well. Yes, she remembered. Never so much as to put her in a ward, but enough to make her fearful of it. That’s what they’d done to Julie, well, Lucy. They’d lock her up forever. So she went with him. She loved him. They had their pseudo marriage and she had loved him and then… Mother of Beasts. Mother of Monsters. That gypsy woman had told her that’s what she was. Set to bring about darkness and terror for all. Clara could not. Mina could not…

And if she went to the hospital now, they’d ask her what set her off and Clara would not be able to tell them. They’d think Christopher was abusing her and he was not abusing her. He’d been lying, but not abusing. Why had he not been allowed to tell her? Was this the reason? Was it because it was going to kill her? No, no, there had to be a reason. Yes, yes, Mina saw it. He’d bargained his own soul in exchange for hers. He’d bargained away his whole being in the chance she’d choose him again. If she did, he got it back. They would be together. They would be the rulers of beasts. But what beasts? What did it mean?

Mina sat up abruptly, pushing the man away from her. He was staring at her like she was crazy. Good, she felt crazy.

“What does it mean?” Clara hissed to him. Some power was overtaking her. A power she could not name but somehow did remember. It was dark, this power. She liked it. “Mother of Beasts and Monsters: what does it mean?”

“Mina-“

“Shut up!” Her voice was low and seemed to take all the light from the room. “Stop with your gentlemanly manner and tell me what it means! You wanted to talk? Let’s talk.” She blinked, “Is it children?” Her hand went to her abdomen like she could sense the thing there. “Oh God.” Because they’d had sex, of course, over and over and… Clara was on the pill but they never used protection because it hadn’t seemed necessary. Why had she not questioned it? Clara was not one to not question it.

He spoke, “I can’t conceive, Clara. You know that.”

“Yes,” she blinked. Yes, she remembered that. Of course but… “I-I don’t understand. Please tell me.” She felt her head nodding again, her body seizing up. It would be very important for her to get to a hospital but Clara simply could not do that now. She could not delay this. The vampire reached for her but she pushed him away. “Explain.”

“Clara-“

“Do it,” Clara hissed. “Or I’ll never speak to you again: I swear it.”

For a moment he did not speak. Clara wondered if he would not. No, no he would; he could not afford to lose her. Not if what she thought was true was indeed so. Not if a soul had been bargained away.

He began, “When my kind are created, our essence—our soul—is split in two and torn away from us. It does not happen to all blood drinking creatures. My kind, incubi, are created, not infected. It is a terrible ritual, a barbaric way of gaining power. I needed power so I let myself be torn in two and cast the other half of me out into the universe. It must reside in a living being. It could have resided in anyone and yet it found you.”

In his words, something had calmed in her. She hated herself to be calming at all because she should have been furious but he reached a hand to her cheek and Clara did not turn away this time. He held her tenderly and everything in her was rupturing. How could she have left him? Why was she so evil to have left him? God, she was going to be sick. This was making her ill.

“You obsessed me. I’d waited so long. I hadn’t imagined it would’ve been left in anyone as perfect as you. My love, my darling…” Something was desperate in him too as he moved nearer and seemed to want to kiss her and yet seemed to think better of it. His hand clutched to her form like some child with a beloved toy. A senseless motion, really, but a reassurance that she was there. “And I went absolutely mad when you left. I lost all sense when you’d been killed I needed you back-“

“Why?” Clara asked instantly. “Would I not have just come back? Come back again as another being, another thing? You went and bartered with the devil-“

“I am intimately acquainted with the devil.” The man said darkly. It scared her. It was one of the moments in which she was truly frightened of him. “My curse comes from him. But you learned that.”

“Yes.”

“And it frightened you?”

“Yes.”

He smirked, “And yes you could have come back as anything, I suppose. Or I could’ve resided on this earth for thousands of years and never found you again. I needed you back with me. Those months I knew you, those weeks that you were mine were…were the happiest I’d ever been. I was mad with it, Mina. I needed you again with me.” He kissed her hands desperately. “These weeks with you have been like those. I love you. I’ve never loved anything like I love you.”

There he was being sweet again. There he was brushing her skin and touching her and more visions flashed into her mind. Visions that were not even her own memories. For he had been with hundreds of women before her. Plenty and a plethora of women had come before Mina and she saw them in his memories but she was different. Mina to him was like…was like some religious experience. Like a goddess she appeared in his mind and Mina could not fathom why on earth that was the case. Perhaps he could understand this whole soul thing. He’d seen it upon her the moment he’d laid eyes upon her but Mina could not. She could not understand it.

“W-what happens?” She asked, for she would not be distracted by him. “Mother of Monster. What happens when you and I are together? Do you make me like you?”

“Yes,” he answered far quicker than she’d expected. “Except you’ll be different. Infected, not formed as I was.”

“And then?”

“And then the world will be different, darling,” he told her with a soft smile. “When we are joined, you and I shall be so powerful, darling. We’ll be one. As we were always meant to be.”

Like that were not some very strange thing to say to her, he brought his hands to her hips and no matter how much she wanted to fight it she wanted him. How stupidly easily she had given into him in the first place. Clara had not even known him. This still spent no proper time together. Every moment was spent in bed, making love and more and Clara had not even questioned it. It hadn’t felt like something to question; it had felt good. It felt very good and it was they were the only moments in which he did not seem so strange to her. This handsome man. This breathtakingly sexy man had wanted her and Clara wa so overwhelmed by it all the time…

Paris. Memories flooded of the brief weeks there. They’d hardly left the suite then either, and when they did Vladimir found new ways to have her. Nothing was strange with him, nothing was taboo. And they could not tear themselves away from each other. How silly she’d been to have not engaged in this in the weeks of their acquaintance. Not that Mina had had any experience with love making, but she was very certain that Vladimir was exceptional at it. And it never stopped. He was always kissing her, wanting her, driving her absolutely mad with it…

Even when he looked monstrous. Even in that moment when he’d looked the most monstrous of all. Those men had been following Mina. Those men who’d followed her from the café. She and Vladimir had fought and she’d stormed away and those men had followed her. Mina had struck one when they made clear their intentions but she had not been able to get another hit in. Her husband, pseudo-husband, had been upon them in a moment. In the bloodiest act she’d ever witnessed, the two men were shredded to absolute bits by a thing that only looked like her husband. A beast. A dark beast that was covered in blood and Mina was going to be sick. He’d taken her hand. The beast had called her his and she didn’t want to belong to that thing and yet she…

She still loved him. That was the sickest part of all. What sort of thing was she to still love something that looked like that? That horrible monster. Mina had seen what it could do and still loved it? Impossible. Disgusting. She was disgusting. And when they’d returned to their suite, she and him had made love once again and afterword her skin had crawled. What sort of monster was she?

“We had far too short a time together.” Christopher had leaned in close to her and the scent of him was focusing her. Yet her mind was still reeling. Her world was still spinning. “A cruelly short time together.” Testing his luck, the man placed a long kiss on her neck. A kiss that trailed to her ear, which he bit upon tenderly. “That’s why I had to have you back, Mina. I had too.” 

She finally breathed, “No.” Her heart, body, and mind rebelled at her for saying it. She pushed her shocked lover away and spoke again. “No. No.”

“Mina-“

“Shut up!” Mina bellowed, pushing him away again. Something in her was breaking when she saw the look in his eyes. Lying eyes. Awful eyes. “This is insane, Vladimir. This is… No!” Mina stood, covering her too exposed body with her arms. Why had she given him her body? Why had she given him everything. “I can’t do this. I can’t, and I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

“Mina, please!” Now he was hurt. Now he was nearly crying as he reached a hand out to her. What a monster was she to be pushing him away. Clara loved him. Clara loved him so much she could hardly breathe. You don’t even know him. You didn’t know him then, you don’t know him now.

Her heart twisted in her chest: then and now. Was the only reason she was alive because of him? Was it all some façade: her father, her mother, her friends? All the work she’d done, all the things she’d learned, the things she’d done: were they all just cruel lies? Was her life some fabrication… thinking of it was making her sick again. She needed to go home. Clara wanted Julie. Clara wanted her dad. Clara wanted… Her eyes looked up to Christopher and she hated herself. Clara wanted him. She wanted him. He was that home she’d always searched for and could never quite find. It was him. Here he was and she…

Clara stumbled as she stepped back.

“Let me help you-“ He put out his arm but Clara snatched it away.

“I-I’ve got to go.” She found her dress on the ground and slid it over her body. She didn’t even zip it. “I’ve got to go.”

“Mina-“

“Please, don’t follow me.” Clara huffed. “Please, just leave me alone.”

**OOO**

Clara told Julie that she and Christopher were taking a break because things had gotten too intense too fast. She supposed it wasn’t a complete lie, but Julie knew there was something Clara was not telling her. But Julie knew her friend well enough to not pry too much, so she left it alone. Clara kept thinking of things from before. Of Julie from before who had called Vladimir Mina’s Count and hinted at the match all along. Lucy who had been killed for her involvement. Had Vladimir meant to bring so many people back?

The old professor. Van Hesling. Clara had not met that man before; not in this life. Renfield. Mina remembered the little man from before. Christopher had kept him all these years. How disgusting. How deplorable. What an idiotic, sentimental old man.

Monster. Old monster who’d preyed on her and tricked her.

Clara missed him so much.

It had been three days since that night and she’d not said a word to him. She’d not even seen him in the halls but knew he was there. He was never far away, that she knew. He’d not allow her to get too far away.

Clara went to go see her dad on the fourth day. This father was not the same one as before but he was her’s all the same. Damn Vladimir for all of this: Clara’s life was worth something. She was not just some doll for him to keep. She was getting a degree. She was going to get her master’s. She was going to be a scholar or a teacher, like her dad. It was good to see him. He’d noted she was sad. Clara told him nothing about Christopher.

On the fifth day, she saw Renfield again in the hallway.

“Miss Murray!” He said in his usual fashion. The thick eyeglasses he wore were crooked, making him look like a cock-headed owl.

He’d not been a man she’d known before, but it was obvious he was under some enchantment by her once husband. There were ways he could do that to people, Clara was certain. She had read something about that two hundred some odd years ago.

She smiled, “Mr. Renfield.” Something in her tone caught his interest, and his thick eyebrows raised.

“You remember now, Miss Murray.” It was not a question.

Clara nodded and out he breathed a breath.

“Miss Murray, you must go to him. He is mad without you: mad. He is angry. So angry—and he takes it out on me.”

Her brown lowered, “I’m sorry for that, Mr. Renfield. But I have no control over him.”

“But you do!” He insisted in a loud whisper. “You do and he is so angry, Miss Murray-“

“Renfield.”

A flush filled her face in an instant as the rest of her blood seemed to drain from her body. How had she not heard him walk up? Christopher Drake was close behind her, right behind her, and she’d not even noticed it. He could travel quickly, she remembered. Very quickly. No doubt he’d been spying all the while. No doubt he continually spied upon her.  
The man with the glasses bowed his head nervously and shook as he made his way back towards the stairwell. Mina was left alone with Vladimir and did not like it. She did not trust herself alone with him. She was not entirely sure if she aimed to slap him or kiss him and did not much want to find out. Avoiding him for four days had not just been luck: no doubt he’d made a point to not be seen by her. No doubt too he was always nearby. Now he just had his proper moment.

She turned, “You didn’t need to frighten him off like that.”

He was still so handsome. Fuck him. Fuck. Him.

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“It’s me you’re mad at,” Clara pushed, “not him. Don’t be mean to him; he didn’t do anything.”

“You,” he began, “do not know that.”

Cryptic, as was his fashion.

She squinted, “Maybe I don’t but it’s true all the same.” He was wearing a suit. It was four in the afternoon and he was wearing a suit. Business, she guessed. A tech empire: why the fuck had he started a tech empire? No doubt he already had more money than God, why should he need more? There were too many questions. Questions she wanted and needed to ask but could not bear the idea of being alone with him again. “Well, bye.”

Clara moved past him but he caught her arm.

“Mina-“

“Let go of me.” With a jerk, he released her.

Christopher breathed, “We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t,” Clara grumbled. “Bye.”

“Mina-“

“That isn’t my name.” Clara felt something in him fall at that. Of course it was her name. Of course all of that had been real and she remembered it all but damn if she’d let him have anything at all now. “I can’t deal with this, okay? I just can’t right now.” Another step back and he didn’t say anything. “Bye.”

She didn’t see him on the sixth day. Again, she did not see him on the seventh. But on the seventh, there was a party. Not a big party, but a house party of a friend of a friend and Julie was not going to let Clara skip.

“Come on,” Julie urged her. “It’ll be stupid and fun. You can make fun of all the drunk people. And it’s just a house party, so it won’t be too wild. C’mon, Clara. Please.”  
Clara had relented and let Julie dress her up too. It was an outfit made entirely of Julie’s clothes, but Clara liked it anyway. Very unlike herself she looked and it made her smile with her dark red lipstick. Her crop top was a dark pink with black high waist pants so tight she thought they might break if she sat down. Heeled booties and an updo ended the look and Clara liked it. It would be nice to not look like herself: to not look like Mina.

It would be nice, too, to get really fucking drunk.

**OOO**

She thought she saw him everywhere.

Clara had not seen him since two days ago, but it did not stop her from imagining him wherever. She was paranoid. Or she was drunk. She was definitely a little bit drunk but she was past the point of caring about how drunk she was. Elliot was going to drive them or Nick or somebody. Clara didn’t care. She didn’t even care about spending the night now. 

She certainly wouldn’t call Vladimir. That plan had been so stupid. What an idiotic plan, and what an idiot she was to fall for it. What an idiot to go to his apartment, to kiss him, to have sex with him… Clara sipped her drink. It was something fruity and she didn’t know what all was in it but it was good. She’d also taken three shots.

She thought she saw him everywhere, but this time Clara was a bit more certain. She was on the couch talking to some friends and he was there around the corner. It was certainly him. Clara knew it was him, lurking there, watching her. It was disgusting. How had he even gotten in? She excused herself, or maybe she didn’t, and walked to where he was. This had gone on long enough. This stupid shit had gone on long enough.

Clara stepped into the kitchen, and it was him, standing there in some stupid clothes in a very feeble attempt to fit in. She laughed at him. It felt good to laugh at him.

**OOO**

"What do you want?" Mina leaned against the counter, crushing her solo cup in her other hand. Though her makeup had smeared a bit and her hair had fallen, she was still intoxicatingly beautiful and filled with an air of grace she could not disguise, even though she was clearly trying. "Crashing a house party doesn't seem like your game?"

"This doesn't seem like your game either."

She squinted, “Julie told me I needed to get out, and she was right. I know people here. I'm not being stupid. So now that you've assured yourself of my safety, you can leave."

Like she'd noticed his lingering gaze, Mina shrunk away from his view. He still pictured the body beneath the clothing. It had only been a few days and even those few days were too many. How had he gone years without her company? How had he considered living at without her? Did she not feel this how he did? She’d run from him before so perhaps she did not. Perhaps this feeling was all his own.

"You've not spoken to me since you left last week." He spoke it like she did not know. 

She clicked her tongue, “We spoke in the hall.”

“You told me to get lost in the hall.”

“No one says ‘get lost’ anymore.” Clara leaned back more, a glossy look in eyes. She was intoxicated, certainly. Yet he still just needed to speak with her.

He began, "I understand this is...overwhelming-"

"Overwhelming?!" Mina scoffed in her outburst. She moved from the counter, tossing her crushed cup into the garbage. Her blue eyes were filled with ice. "You told me last week that my whole life exists because you willed it to happen and that's... that's not overwhelming: it's fucked up. It's fucked up, Christopher, and I don't want anything to do with this."

Anything to do with this? He was too dumbstruck to respond as she skirted past him but no. No! She was not about to go! Not about to leave without an explanation. He grabbed her wrist, maybe too tightly, for she shook him off.

"What?" She barked when she turned. 

"We need to talk." Her eyes pierced him and he needed her to stay. It was like Paris again. All over again with her hating him and leaving him and... "Clara, we should talk." He knew she'd refuse and was more shocked when she sighed.

"Fine," she agreed. "We'll talk here. Now."

He blinked, "What?"

"I can't be alone with you," Mina admitted, something in her voice shaking. Not for fear, he noted. He could feel the thoughts in her mind, the warming of her heart. "I just...can't be." She breathed a rough breath, "You're too close now. Just..." Mina backed away, staggering towards the small kitchen table and taking a seat. "We'll talk now."

He studied her, wondering if she was blushing but knew she was not. Vladimir followed suit, walking to the other chair at the table and taking a seat. The table in question was covered in snacks and cans but she seemed not to mind it. The noise was aggravating, but again not bothering her. She didn't want to be alone with him. So Mina did feel something. She did feel...something akin to what he felt. 

Mina spoke, "So I remember...most of the before. It's odd and hazy, but it's there. I know..." She collected her thoughts, "I know most of it. I know you sold your soul or something stupid like that and now I'm here. I know that much." Her eyes flicked up suddenly, "Stop staring at me like that."

"Sorry," he apologized, but hardly knew why. He was not about to stop staring at her. He could not stop staring at her. Thinking about being in her arms again. Thinking about engulfing himself in her and entering her and pleasuring her and tasting her sweet blood. 

Mina continued, "And so it just, sucks, you know? You magic-ed me back to life and... And I exist because you wanted me back? That's...that's just shit, Vladimir! Do you know that?"

He said nothing.

“So it’s like… It’s like, does my life eve matter? This life. This Clara Porter life.” She shook her head and another stray piece of hair fell. “I was freaking out about it for days. My panic attacks were…unending.” That hit him in the stomach life a shot. “But I thought, ‘fuck you.’ I thought ‘fuck you, Vladimir.’ Fuck you and fuck this because my life matters. Maybe you’re the reason for it, but it matters-“

“Clara, I in no way meant for you to think that-“

She waved her hand, “It matters.” And she stopped. He wondered if she aimed to speak again. Her glossy eyes looked to him and he thought she may’ve smiled. He wanted her to smile. Her lips were lined in smeared red lipstick and he wanted to kiss them. He wanted her in his bed again. He wanted to drink her blood, to finally—finally—make her as he is.   
He’d waited too long before. Been too cautious, but he needed her.

Mina huffed, “But—fuck you—my epiphany did little to help with the panic and the migraines and the general insanity.” Her words grew faster with less air between them. “Because—fuck you—if we’re goddamned soul mates then I guess my body, like, knows that because—fuck you—I can’t stop thinking about you or wanting you or feeling like there’s some great damn hole in me-“

He took her hand, “Mina-“

“Shut up!” She jerked away so strongly she stood up. “Shut up, okay? Because…” Mina sniffed, her hand wiping across her face. Tears. She was crying. He couldn’t have her crying. Her hand clasped the counter for support. “Because I keep feeling like we shouldn’t. I keep feeling like before when I ran off like…like this whole thing is too weird, Christopher. It’s weird and maybe we shouldn’t.”

“Why?” He stood to join her. Her eyes were wide like she’d not expected this reaction. “Why shouldn’t we, Clara? If we…” Again he reached for her hand but this time she did not pull it away. “If we are destined for one another, why deny it? Why deny this, Mina?”

“I don’t…” Her voice was quiet and quivering. “I don’t…know. I don’t know, okay?” Again she tossed away his grip. “Maybe it’s like Van Helsing said. Maybe this is all hell and damnation and my soul will be done for-“

He stepped closer, “You worry about your soul? It’s intertwined with mine. If you’re to be damned, you’re damned already.”

“Shut up.”

“No, I won’t shut up because it’s true.” She tossed her head to the side looking off to the rest of the party. “You know it’s true, Clara. You’re smart.”  
She bit, “I guess it seemed easier to believe before.” Her fingers drummed on the counter. “Soulmates seems…stupid now. It seems weird. Voodoo and magic and vampires-“

“Well, vampires are very much real.” He flashed his fangs for good measure. Mina groaned, raising her finger tips to his lips. Her skin smelt liked alcohol and her sweet blood underneath of it. For a long moment she hesitated, her hands brushing along his skin. 

“Be with me, Clara,” he began softly. “I love you. You know that. Our minds are connected. We are connected.”

“Shut up.”

“Why deny it?”

“I…” She began, her hand resting on his chest. She stepped nearer to him and he could feel the heat from her skin. He could hear her heart beating bellow her chest. “I don’t know. I don’t…” Mina stepped another inch closer and kissed him. Yes. Yes. He drew her tighter in his arms as hers squished against his chest. Her mouth tasted like alcohol but it was hers. The lips were warm and they were hers.

And someone walked in. A girl he didn’t know who laughed, mumbled an apology and vacated quickly. Mina had broken from his lips but was still in his arms. She was about to speak when he spoke instead:

“Come home with me.”

She sighed, “Christopher.”

“We don’t have to do anything,” he promised. He meant the promise. “I just want to be near you.”

Mina said nothing.

“Do you want that?”

He felt her heart close to his and he needed her. God, he needed her. 

She nodded softly and he smiled.


End file.
